Le Ange de Ténèbres: The Angel of Darkness
by Ayashinoselene
Summary: Mireille Déesse is an assassin in the French Government. One day after her many missions, her uncle contacts her to reveal a family secret. But that secret leads her into the world of the late 19th century and to the world of the Phantom of the Opera.
1. Prologue

_Well, this is my first installment in my new fanfic, the Angel of Darkness. I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, or any characters related to it...I wishAny likeness to another character is purely coincidential, and any likeness to real people, or names, is purely coincidential, and they are utilized for fictional purposes._ _Please I like reviews, so make them and give me some contructive criticism so I can make this story better. Well, Enjoy!_

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Prologue

A woman in a red top and black miniskirt rushes down the stairs, her boots clanking as they make contact with the cold cement steps, with catlike movements, she jumps into her black convertible and drives off just in the nick of time, before the building she came out of exploded into a bright scarlet and flaming orange colored ball of flames. She screeched the car to a full stop a few meters away and then moves a lock of her wavy hair out of her face. Her eyes, black in the night, but shining a bright amethyst color, looks on to the now destroyed building, and smiles to herself. Her hands moving quickly and taking a small silver cell phone from the glove compartment, she moves her fingers as quickly as a cat running away, and dials an unknown phone number and then takes out some sort of device connected to the cell phone and puts in a code. The screen on the device's screen begins to shine and bright blue words begin to flash. When the words stop flashing, the phone call then goes through.

The voice of a man begins speaking on the other end, " Has the target been taken care of?"

The woman's sweet but cold voice responds, " Yes…. The target has been annihilated."

The man's voice responds "Good, Keep up the good work Noir… We'll contact you when we need you once more, to take care of…. very pressing matters…."

"Understood" She coldly responded and then she clicked the phone off.

She unlocks the device from her cell phone and puts it in a hidden compartment in her car. The phone begins to ring violently and the woman annoyingly answers it.

"Hello?" She impatiently says.

"Why is that the tone you speak to your uncle with?" a man in his fifties replies.

"I am sorry uncle…I am just stressed right now." She now calmly responds.

"Mireille, we need to talk, please come to my home in Paris…and I'll give you more details."

"I understand sensei…I'll be there in a couple of hours" she responds and then she clicks off the phone.

She then sets the phone down on the passengers side of the car, and then gets in the drivers seat. She starts up the car once more and zooms out of the area before the police arrive to find her target, or to catch her.


	2. Corse Beautè: Corsican Beauty

Here's the first installation of "The Angel of Darkness". Please enjoy, and as alway please give me some constructive criticism. I'm sorry for the delay but school was keeping me pretty busy

...Credit Corner...

Iwant to give credit to the anime Noir, that deeply influenced the characted of Mireille Deesse. And to Yuki Kajiura, the composer of the music in the anime, who's songs are going to be shown in this fanfic, in later chapters.

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**Ch.1 Corse Beauté**

Mireille Déesse's hair blew gently in the wind as she sped down the French freeway in her convertible.

"I wonder what my sensei wishes to tell me…" she pondered to herself as she drove home.

The convertible made a turn into a small town. She smiled as she saw the familiar buildings that beckoned her closeness to her home in the beautiful island of Corsica. As she neared a red stoplight, she slowed the car and waited for it to turn it's bright green, allowing her to move along.

She drives on for a few blocks until she nears a Ferry station. She slows down the car until finally reaching a stop next to a booth. A slumped man, smoking a cigarette looks up to see her there.

"Glad to see you again, Miss." He takes off the old, brown hat he wears with his work uniform as a sign of respect. His teeth glowed yellow as he smiled at her. The color of his eyes a faded blue that must have shined when he was young, and wrinkles that looked like canyons dug by the rivers of time marked his face. His light brown hair showed the signs of aging as silver streaks made their way through most of his thinning hair.

"May I go into the ferry?" she kindly asked him. As she bent forward to face the man, the light finally showed her features. Her curly brown hair fell down on her back and piercing violet eyes that would enchant the most evil of men. Her fair skin glowed and a sharp nose that faced most who say her as mere loyal subjects. Her lips were like a rose in the brink of bloom and she exuded an aura of power, mystery and seductiveness.

After about a second, the man responded, "Yes, of course my lady…"

The man opened the gate that lead to the ferry and gave Mireille the right to pass through.

"Thank you" she politely said as her car made it's way into the ferry.

The dark waters looked like an endless abyss of darkness as Mireille gazed down upon them. The soft ocean breeze blowing her hair gently and making it seem like a dark halo around her head. She closed her eyes as memories came flooding back to her.

Her uncle was a well to do businessman from Paris, just like her father. The thought of her father made her eyes water and was one of the many causes for her silent tears in her many nights of unrest. Those thoughts paved the way to her remembering her mother. A small flashback came to her mind, as she feels overwhelmed by the memories.

"I was small and I clearly remember going into a richly decorated room with many books at my uncles house. There were rich gold draperies that made contrast to the deep violet carpets and tapestries. My mother stood in the corner holding a book in her hand. Her long chestnut hair falling gracefully down her back until it reached her waist. Her lavender gown showed off her slender arms and was ruffled at the sleeves. Her dress reached the floor but she gracefully walked about the large room almost floating. Her mouth curved into a small smile and her kind and gentle eyes dazzled in the light. She was a beautiful woman, a true lady, and someone I truly wished to become one day. She turned around to find me looking at her in admiration. My mother's smile lit up the room and she gave me a hug."

A tear falls down Mireille's cheek as she remembers one of the last moments she spent with her mother. She looks up at the dark indigo blue sky and the shimmering stars struggling to shine in the dark abyss of space. Those starts reminded her of that horrid night and what came after it.

There were parts that were cut into millions of small images that flashed in her head. The limp dead bodies of her family, the blood covered walls, and the shadowy figures that killed them. All vague memories that her uncle, or as she like to call him her sensei, helped piece together for her. Her uncle Bastian…. he had been the one to take her in and teach her everything she knew about the deadly art of the assassin. As Mireille reflected on her past the Ferry's horn went off, signaling the arrival to Corsica. She turns away from the boat's edge and back into her car, ready to drive home to Bastia, the glowing city of Corsica.

The ferry docked and let all of its occupants out. Mireille's car slowly got out of the ferry and then sped off towards her home.

Mireille smiles smugly to herself as her mind drifted from thought to thought.

"I find it rather hilarious that me, a mere 17 year old can out kill even the most expert assassins. But I only have one goal, to find whoever killed my family and make them pay" Her face displays her determination as she turns into a small street leading to elegant apartments in the high class district of Bastia.

She parks her car, turns it off, and makes sure to take out most of the gadgets that the French government and Interpol have given her. A small sigh escapes from her lips as she closes the door of her car and walks towards her penthouse.

A doorman opens the door for her, enabling her to go inside. She nods her head as a sign of gratitude and walks on. The elegant lobby of the penthouse complex was nearly empty, except for a few scurrying workers that worked the graveyard shift. Her boots make small tapping sounds as she heads towards the elevator. The elevator door opens as she arrives to it. A man in a business suit gets out and walks off, letting Mireille enter. Soft music plays on the elevator's intercom as it makes its way towards the 5 floor. Once it reaches it's destination, it makes a small chime, announcing the floor, and opens the doors, like Saint Peter allowing passage to heaven.

Mireille makes her way towards the end of the hall and unlocks the door to her home. She opens it to reveal it to be dark and empty. She turns on the light as she closes the door and throws her bag, with all of the government gadgets on the couch. She then heads towards the bathroom, where she turns on the sink faucet, letting ice-cold water run freely. She looks up and sees her reflection in the mirror. She looks like she's about twenty, but she's only 17. Her eyes shut themselves as she thinks.

"I look like I'm twenty but I have seen so much in my life that I feel like I'm thirty."

Her hands pick up some of the frigid water and she washes her face with it. The water takes off her makeup, purifying her face and making her lost innocence come back for at least a moment. Her face looks down at the sink, letting some water droplets fall from her face into it, her hand grabbing a towel and patting her face dry. She heads towards her room where she takes out 2 suitcases, one for her clothing, the other for some of her weapons, like her beloved two Walther P-99 guns, and her daggers, her flute and a very old copy of her favorite book, The Phantom of the Opera.

She finally closes her suitcases and puts on tight black pants, some calf-length boots and a violet shirt that looks like a corset. She grabs her suitcases and heads back into her car. Once she gets in the driver's seat, she takes out her cell phone and dials a number.

"Pick it up…pick it up" she mutters to herself.

"Hello? Déesse residence, who is speaking?" the voice of a droning butler answers.

"I'm Mireille Déesse, I wish to speak with my uncle please." She replies, her voice authoritarian.

"L..Lady Mireille, it is so wonderful to hear from you again but, I am sorry, Master Bastian has retired to his room for the night. Do you wish to leave him a message?" The butler's voice shakes with nervousness and admiration.

"Please tell my uncle that I shall be at his state in about 5 hours, alright?" She responds.

"Yes, my lady!" The butler anxiously replies.

Mireille turns off the cell phone and turns on her car, gets out of the parking space and speeds off towards Paris.


	3. Ch2 Secrets within a book

Ch. 2 Arcanes dans un livre: Secrets within a book 

_I do not own POTO, yada, yada, and I failed to mention this, but this phanfic is based on the 2004 film starring Emmy Rossum and Gerard Butler. So, again, give me constructive criticism, now enjoy! And I apologize for the lateness._

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The butler rushed hastily towards his master's chambers. His old, frail body moving as quickly as it could. Finally he reached the top of the massive staircase and ran down the left hall leading to the east wing of the manor. He reached a massive wood door that was intricately decorated with many patterns of leaves, in the art nouveau style. His small hand knocked on the door, causing an echoing sound to come from it. 

"Who is it?" a voice full of annoyance answered

"M..Master…she is coming!" the butler muttered in fear and worry.

"Come in…." the voice answered gently.

The butler cautiously entered, like a mouse going into a snake's lair. He gently closed the door behind him, and looked to his right, where a man was sitting down near a fireplace.

"Come, sit down old friend…."The man said as he pointed to a seat opposite to his.

"M..Master…Lady Mireille is on her way here" The butler slowly sat down, facing his master.

"How many times do I have to tell you NOT to call me master? I've known you since we were lads, just call me Bastian like you used to."

The butler sighed giving in, "Alright, Bastian, your niece is on her way here. Are you planning on showing her to THAT room?"

"Yes" Bastian's voice was monotone when he answered.

"But I must protest against that! Don't you remember what that did to your brother!"

Bastian looks on to the leaping flames of the fire, dancing in the darkness giving off heat. "I have pondered about doing it, ever since I took her under my wing. I am confident that she will rise above all expectations…so rest assured"

The butler wanted to protest but then kept silent, watching Bastian's gleaming eyes.

"Now go, and prepare everything for her arrival, she must be inside the library before sunrise" Bastian's voice trailed off.

"Yes, sir!" The butler hastily made his exit, preparing any last minute details for the comeback of Lady Mireille.

………

Mireille finally reached Paris, 2 hours before sunrise. Everything was eerily silent, except for the occasional drunkard or gang of troubled kids that she would occasionally see. But she zoomed by the Eiffel Tower, not glancing at it for a minute; she had more pressing matters at hand.

As she neared to her uncle's song she begun to sing the song she and her mother used to sing together.

"Sing for me farewell

That sweet sound

Of the past days

It always remember me

The life of the love

Beloveds of my heart

Oh happy, you my soul

Sing slowly..."

She stopped, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She turned right, and entered a small road leading to her uncle's reclusive manor.

"I wonder what he has in store for me…." Mireille thought to herself as she drove on. Her line of sight saw the manor, in all of it's intimidating glory, looming against the dark landscape. There were no signs of life anywhere, it seemed like the house was deserted.

"Wonder where everyone is?" She asked herself. Finally, she pulled up to the Manor's main entrance, closing the car door behind her, after she stepped off. She quickly went to the trunk and proceeded to take her suitcases. After she made sure she had everything, she shut the trunk and locked the car, turning on the alarm.

Her boots made hard clanking sounds as she stepped up the old marble steps, her suitcases trailing behind her, as she pulled them up. She reached the front door and knocked, after a few seconds she knocked again, but no one answered her. Her hand moved up to the doorknob to see if it was locked and to her dismay, it was. She opened the door and slowly opened it, making sure to make no sound. Her body and suitcases slipped inside, like a panther stalking it's prey.

"SENSEI! Are you here!" She called out, but heard no reply.

She looked around until something got her attention, a door gilded with gold and silver, extravagantly decorated with flowers and leaves. Her eyes were wide in shock, remembering this was the door that leads to the large library where she found her mother, right before she was murdered. She hastily stepped closer to it, her fingers examining the texture of the door, trying to find some clue. Suddenly, the door creaks open, an invisible hand forcing it to open. Mireille steps back, anticipating the worst but the door finally opens to reveal the library where her mother once had stood. Candles dimly illuminated the large library, the draperies and carpets looking like they did that wonderful day, thirteen years ago.

Mireille stepped inside, with her suitcases, an unknown force luring her there, enticing her to step inside. The large door shut itself, surprising Mireille. She rushed to the door to try to force it open but she found herself unable to. Too tired from the long drive and annoyed, she gave up and let out a loud sigh. Finally she walked around the library, trying to find a book to read while she waited for her uncle to come back. Her hand caressed each book as she walked by, feeling the texture of their bindings. From the large bookshelf her back was facing, a trump was heard. Mireille turned around to find a book lying on the floor, looking as if it fell from its spot. Her feet slowly walked up to the book, making sure her heels did not make a sound. Her eyes focused on the title, the title gilded in faded gold, the book cover in black with red roses. Her eyes widened in surprise as the title read "The Phantom of the Opera".

Her hand unconsciously picked the book up and held it within it. For unknown reasons, she felt a strange aura coming from the book. She sat down near her suitcases and flipped the book open. The beginning of the book read:

"The one that reads this book will get her lusting heart's desire"

Mireille read that out loud and giggled to herself.

"This is ridiculous…. I've read this book many times and none of my desires have been granted…." She thought to herself as she flipped the first page.

Finally, the text heralding the beginning of the book was in front of her, and as she read it, a strange light burst out of the book engulfing her and her belongings.

"W..What's happening!" She screamed as the light became brighter and before her world plunged into darkness.

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Bastian heard the echoes of his niece's screams from his room. He closed his eyes and hoped that they would be over soon. A few seconds later, only dead silence remained. The butler fearfully got close to his master.

"It has been done, Bastian" The butler whispered.

"May the gods help her on her journey" Bastian let out, praying that his niece, his only family would succeed like the many others in his family did.

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Mireille's eyes slowly opened up, at first having a hard time to focus, but they soon got accustomed to the shadows.

"W..Where am I?" Mireille said out loud to herself, not recognizing her surroundings. She groggily stood up and stretched out her limbs.

"This is not my uncle's house….." She looked around, inspecting the area for unknown dangers, when suddenly a pack of men came her way.

They were 3 men, they were dirty and smelled of cheap liquor, their teeth either yellowing or not there. The bushy hair they had smelled of moisture and garbage. One of them grabbed hold of Mireille and the other's just watched as the man pinned her to the wall.

"Why…hello there, gorgeous, looking at the way she's dressed, you want some fun, don't you mademoiselle?" The man's face was uncomfortably close to hers.

"Let me go you PIG!" She hissed at them.

"Let's do her," One of the men shouted.

"Do anything to me and you're dead…" Her voice was as cold as ice.

"Ha! Don't make us laugh" One of them yelled as the pack got closer to her.

She smirked and then snapped her captor's neck, killing him instantly, his body falling limply on the ground. The other two men, with blood and alcohol rushing thought their veins, lunged at her, hoping to beat her to death. Mireille seeing their slow reflexes quickly dodged their attacks, and before they got up, she got her daggers and cut their arteries, while snapping their necks. The men's eyes pleaded for mercy, but they found none as Mireille stared at their cold, dead bodies in contempt.

"I better find a place to stay…. while I figure out where the hell I am…" She thought.

Her hands went for her suitcases, which were to her surprise, with her. She saw a newspaper fly by her, her foot quickly caught it. Her legs kneeled down, and her left hand picked it up, her eyes looking for a date, a name or the location where she was. She read the newspaper out loud to herself.

"Le Petit Journal, January 10th, 1890…. 1890!" Her eyes widened in shock as she read the date.

"That can't be, it's March 10th, 2006!" She tries to rationalize answers but finds herself not getting any results.

"There is something…something I must do here…. and until I find out what it is, I will no be able to go home." Mireille thought to herself. With determination and a will of stone, she set out, to explore her new surroundings.

After a long time of wandering around Paris, she found a building that sparked her interest. It was lavishly decorated and the gilded posters announced the name of the building. The Opera Populaire, the title read out proudly. With her suitcases with her, Mireille set out into the unknown territory of the opera house, and what she unconsciously knew, a game that would determine her destiny.


	4. Ch3 Inexploré Territoire

**Ch. 3 Inexploré Territoire: Uncharted Territory**

Mireille stepped inside the intimidating opera house, observing every detail of it. Making note of all the exits if she should need them. There were girls no older than twelve furiously scrubbing the tile floors clean, until they shined. Her eyes traveled to the great staircase that that separated into two other staircases going in opposite directions, and she spotted a woman coming down those steps. The woman had a rigid face, her eyes were an icy blue gray and her lips were in a thin scarlet line. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a tight braid; her dress was as black as the night sky.

The woman's eyes scanned the area, supervising the girls cleaning the floors until a young woman greeted them, with suitcases accompanying her. She observed the girl's strange outfit and assumed that she was foreign.

"Can I help you mademoiselle?" The woman asked. Her voice was kind but had a strict tone to it.

"Yes…. I…I want to work here in the opera house." Mireille voice sounded like the sweet sound of a nightingale's song.

"Well then, can you tell me what kind of skills you have mademoiselle." The woman inquired.

"I can sing and dance and do acrobatics. I took lessons in all three since I was five, so I have some experience" Mireille replied truthfully.

"May I ask you, what is your name?" The woman asked, looking into Mireille's eyes.

"Adrienne Rose…But most people call me Adria for short" Mireille lies. Trying to hide her true identity.

"I am Madame Giry, and I will be your dance instructor and supervisor. Now tell me, where are you from? Madam Giry asks her new student.

"I am from Corsica…. but I have traveled for most of my life." Mireille responds truthfully.

"Adria, follow me, I'll take you to the girl's dormitories" Madame Giry announces as she goes up the stairs.

Mireille quickly grabs her belongings and follows her, her eyes scanning her new home.

Bastian and the butler walked down to the large library. The butler quickly opened the door for his master, hiding behind it, afraid of how his master might react. Bastian stealthily made his way inside the library, observing the floor to see if he could find the book that his niece read. He finally spotted it on a couch near one of the larger bookcases. He made his way towards the book, hoping, praying that his niece was all right. He bent down and picked up the book, feeling the texture of the black leather book cover.

"Bastian? Which book did she go into?" The butler asked, his voice faltering.

Bastian flipped the book open and his eyes widened in shock.

"Oh god…no" Bastian whispered.

"Bastian, what is the matter?" The butler asks, worried about the tone of voice his master has.

Bastian hands the book to the butler so he could read the title. The butler's frail and wrinkled hands took the book within their grasp and flipped it open. Revealing the fancy lettering announcing the book, "The Phantom of The Opera" they proudly boasted.

"This isn't the book Mireille was supposed to go into, isn't it?" The butler's courage finally shows itself as his voice stops faltering.

"Yes…My niece…my princhipezza, she was supposed to go into "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" not "The Phantom of the Opera"." Bastian's voice is full of concern for his niece.

"Bastian, what does this mean?" The butler's eyes show concern for the girl he helped raise and tutored in history and art.

"It means that my lovely niece will most likely have her heart broken in the end. I never wished such misery for her, she has already suffered enough!" Bastian sobbed.

His tears were in honor of his brother, his brother's wife and of their daughter, who he promised to protect from the pain that the world would bring her.

"I…I failed her…. I failed all of them!" Bastian heaved.

"Bastian, you did your best…. now it is up to Lady Mireille to decide what her destiny awaits…." The butler tries to reassure Bastian.

Mireille walked past a large cluttered area filled with many costumes. Her eyes observing the seamstresses bustling away, fixing all of the costumes and making new ones.

"Okaaay…. this is weird…I'm in an opera house and there's a lady whose name is Madame Giry…This is getting pretty weird" she thought to herself as Madame Giry quickened the pace towards the opposite end of the opera house.

"Adria…I'm sorry but you won't be sleeping with all the girls in the dormitories. I just remembered that the dormitories were full, but I can still find a room for you. Next to Madame Carlotta's unofficial understudy's room." Madame Giry softly spoke.

"Y..Yes, of course" Mireille managed to answer.

Mireille wondered to herself if she was dreaming, then, just to test out her developing theory, she asked Madame Giry a question that had been gnawing at her thoughts during her entire interview with her.

"Madame Giry, who is the understudy of Madame Carlotta?" Mireille innocently asked.

"It is Christine Daae." Her French accented voice answered.

"Oh..." Mireille simply answered as she reached a very isolated part of the opera house.

The noise and bustle of the previous rooms were polar opposites of this area. The silence was deafening and if you dropped a needle, you would surely hear the sound of its impact with the ground.

"Here…" Madame Giry opened the door to a room that was adjacent to Christine's room and moved out of the way to allow Mireille to step inside.

"Thank you very much." Mireille quietly answered as her eyes looked in awe at the room in front of her.

The room had a medium sized bed with deep blue sheets. There was a medium sized vanity, a large mirror on the east wall of the room was decorated with beautiful gold flower designs. The room was so princess-like to Mireille that a soft "Wow" escaped her lips.

"The bathroom is over there to your right, and dance lessons begin at 8 o'clock sharp. I will ask my daughter to come and escort you to the stage area. If there's anything you need or some of the girls pick on you, please let me know promptly." Madame Giry dictated to Mireille.

"Yes, but what is your daughter's name?" Mireille inquired.

"It is Margarite, but we call her Meg" Madame Giry answered. "Is there anything else you want to know about?" She asked.

"No. That is all. So, I'll be at the dance lessons at 8o'clock sharp tomorrow." Mireille answered.

"Rest well" and with that, Madame Giry closed the door behind her and made her ways towards a wall close to the rooms. Her hand caressed the texture of the wall until a small brick caved in. She pulled a curtain and quickly made her way inside the secret door, closing it behind her.

Her hands moved silently though her dress until she found a candle and a match. She struck a match and lit it, the small flame illuminating the abyss of darkness that surrounded her. Her right hand held the candle up in the air and her left hand pulled the long skirt of her black dress as she walked into the bowels of the opera house. After a while, she reached a fork in the catacombs and she turned to the one on the right, her pace never faltering.

At the end of the catacomb, her eyes made out faint light in the distance. As she got nearer, music filled the air. The keys made a sweet and lulling harmony that would enrapture the most horrid of creatures. She blew out the candle as she got to the light and made her way inside a hidden room.

"Erik…."Madame Giry called out to a man on the opposite end of the room. The man was playing a large organ that had many candles surrounding it.

The man paid no heed to her call, until she went near him and touched his arm.

"You came here on time, Madame…." The man softly responded.

Madame Giry let out a sigh. " I've come to give you today's report on the doings of the Opera House."

"Go right ahead…begin." The man's stern voice commanded.

Madame Giry cleared her throat. "Well, they've just begun production on Hannibal. Carlotta is the lead, and everything is getting ready for rehearsals. As for the managers, they are the same as always. Overall, everything is same old, same old…except…" Madame Giry hesitates.

"Except what Madame?" The man's piercing green-gray eyes look up to face Madame Giry. His face showing his annoyance.

Madame Giry stared at the man before her, the man she saved from a fate worst than death. His green-gray eyes pierced her soul, a white porcelain mask covered the right side of his face but his left side of his face was extremely attractive.

"There is a new girl in the Opera House…." Madame Giry begun speaking.

"Yes? What about this new girl?" The man contemptuously responded.

"Well, her story, about how she got here…. it doesn't add up." Madame Giry finished.

"Interesting… Where is she sleeping? In the girl's dormitories, perhaps?" the man casually asked.

" She's staying in the room next to Christine's…" Madame Giry solemnly responded.

"Very well then, I will gladly introduce her to the Opera Ghost then…" His emotionless voice responded.

"E… Erik…please don't scare the girl!" Madame Giry pleaded.

"I assure you Madame Giry…. I give you my word that I will not frighten the girl, but I must meet the new member that lives under MY opera house." The man responded. "And one more thing…never, EVER call me by that name again…. I am the Phantom…Erik is no more!" He brutishly added.

"Yes…Phantom…." Madame Giry lowered her head and then made her way back up to the activities of the Opera house.


	5. Ch 4 Début Rencontrer: First Encounter

**Ch. 4 ****Début ****Rencontrer: First Encounter**

Bastian hastily opened up the black book and flipped through its pages, reading about what Mireille was doing at the moment. He fought back tears and clutched the book tightly within his grasps. The butler, his face full of anguish for his master, looked on, concerned about what this might do to Bastian's health.

"Mireille…. Mireille can you hear me?" Bastian called out to the book.

Mireille had been on her bed, flipping some daggers into the air thoughtlessly. She then heard someone calling out to her.

"Who's there?" Mireille's voice whispered. Her hand quickly catching the dagger and getting ready to attack, her senses trying to home in to the source of the voice.

"Mireille…. Mireille…" The voice became clearer as it spoke her name. The voice then became more audible and it revealed itself to be the voice of a man.

"Whom am I talking to?" Mireille turned around the room, looking for the source of the voice.

"Why Mireille? My princhipezza, don't you recognize your sensei's voice?" The voice responded.

"Sensei!" Mireille gasped. " Sensei, what is going on? One minute I was in your library and the next I was in some post Victorian 4rth dimension."

" Mireille, please calm down…. my princhipezza" Bastian's voice became soft and gentle.

"I want answers!" Mireille demanded.

" All right, I shall give them to you. Mireille, this family has a library full of books, wondrous books. Those books are enchanted, and it has become an unofficial family tradition that each member must travel to the world of a particular book, and live during that time in order to learn a lesson that only they will know what it is." Bastian responded, his voice solemn.

"So, you're telling me that I'm in a book with no way to get home?" Mireille asked.

"Yes… But it seems that you went into the wrong book." Bastian added.

"The wrong book? What do you mean by 'the wrong book'?" Mireille demanded, her voice holding a tone of authority.

"Yes, princhipezza. You see, you were supposed to have gone into 'The Romance of the Three Kingdoms' but wound up in 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Maybe the gods wished it to be so." Bastian responded, his voice full of worry and concern for his niece.

"So…I'm in the 'Phantom of the Opera'? No wonder everyone's name's are the same as the characters in the book!" Mireille whispered to herself.

"Yes, princhipezza. Don't fret, I shall find a way to get you home." Bastian assured his niece.

"Sensei…. You said that I was in the book for a reason, so I will stay here, in the book." Mireille sounded determined.

"But, Princhipezza." Bastian pleaded with his niece.

"Do not worry about me sensei, your training and all those lessons in music and dance are going to help me. Besides, I wish to know what this 'lesson' is going to be." Mireille calmly made her decision final.

"Fine, but promise me you will be careful." Bastian said warily.

"Yes, sensei. I will, and do not worry about me falling in love or anything. Love is not meant for an assassin, for it leads to weakness and my downfall." Mireille stated.

* * *

"Goodbye, my princhipezza" With that, Bastian said goodbye to his niece and closed the book, breaking the communication he had with her, his heart breaking once again and crying.

The butler looked on, torn whether to console Bastian or support Lady Mireille in her choice. The sun was coming up, and the library was slowly being illuminated by it's soft light.

* * *

Mireille sat on her bed, pondering what happened to her. Her hand still flipping the dagger up in the air.

_"So, I'm stuck in a book now…Might as well make some good use for the time."_ Mireille thought to herself as the put the dagger in its holder under her shirt.

She got up from her bed and slowly walked outside her room, the hall looking sinister with the lack of lighting it had. Her hand silently closed the door behind her and she was engulfed in shadows. Her eyes focused trying to find her way around, her hand feeling the wall adjacent to her room and she let her fingers guide her down the hall. After a few minutes, her fingers were stopped by fabric, which she assumed was some sort of drapery, her fingers delicately went over the fabric and begun to feel their way towards an unknown destination. The tips of her fingers caved in, her left hand moved to see what had happened to the wall when her hand found no wall, she felt the force of her weight make her trip inside some unknown crevasse. Her body slammed against the cold, damp floor making her curse loudly. She covered her mouth with her hands, and then heard the sound of bricks rubbing against bricks. Whatever little light there was, was absolutely gone, leaving her in a pitch-black environment.

Mireille slowly gets up, using the wall for support. She brushes some of her curls back, letting a loud sigh escape her lips.

_"Great! What am I supposed to do now?"_ she thought angrily to herself. _"It's just liked the old saying, 'Curiosity killed the cat, and messed up the dog'."_

She slowly made her way down the catacomb until she reached a fork in her road. She growled under her breath until she heard the distant sound of music coming from one of the separate pathways. Mireille slowly closed her eyes and tried to find the source of the music. After a few minutes, she found the source of the music. Mireille turned to the catacomb to her right and picked up her pace, running towards the music that filled the air. As she got closer and closer to the music, she slowed down her pace, letting the music enrapture her mind. The music was filled with sorrow and pain and longing, all of the emotions that Mireille felt.

Mireille closed her eyes as another flashback came to her. It had been her 4rth birthday and her mother had been reading "The Phantom of the Opera" out loud to her.

"Mommy?" Mireille looked up to her mother as she called out to her.

"Yes, honey?" Her mother's eyes shined with warmth and love as she responded.

"Why doesn't Christine like the Phantom? Is it because he doesn't look normal on his right side?" Mireille's big amethyst eyes were welling up with tears, she felt bad for the Phantom. She felt as if it was her obligation to be sad for him.

"Well, it's difficult to explain but I'll try my best you see, Christine is in love with Raoul. But she does care for the Phantom, but not in the way he want her to care about him." Her mother tried to reassure her.

"Mommy, I…I think Christine doesn't like anyone. She is the one who's making the Phantom cry" Mireille responded, tears running down her cheeks.

"Oh honey!" Her mother exclaimed quietly as she wiped the tears off her daughter's cheeks. "What would you do if you where in the book my little Mireille?" Her mother asked, her voice as gentle as the morning breeze.

"I ….I would not leave the Phantom. I would keep him company, so he wouldn't be lonely any more." Mireille responded, an inner courage making her voice sound very determined.

"My little Mireille, when the time comes, I know you will remember this talk, and I just want to tell you that, no matter what is at stake, always remember to follow your heart." The slender index finger of Mireille's mother pointed to her daughter's heart.

"I will mommy, I will do it, for the Phantom and for you" Mireille smiled as she said so.

Mireille shook her head and tried to clear her mind of her flashback.

_"I'm sorry mother, but I can't follow my heart. An assassin must not have any emotional ties to anyone. Otherwise that will lead to weakness and weakness will ultimately lead to my downfall."_ Mireille solemnly thought to herself as she got close to the music and the light at the end of the tunnel.

Mireille slowed down, making sure not to make the tapping noise that her boots would make. She finally reached the light and the music had gained momentum, anger and hatred dripping from every key, combining into a fiery rhapsody. She gulps down her hesitation and fear and steps inside the well-lit room. She glances around and sees that there is a lake off to her left and to her right, a man. A man who furiously plucks away at the keys of a large organ, candles surround the organ along with papers with some writing on them. The candles where everywhere, she spotted 2 doors one leading to what she assumed was a bedroom the other to an unknown location, and Mireille's eyes widened in surprise and joy when she saw all those things.

"Oh my god…." Mireille whispered, her eyes scanning the area in the same way a child would a candy shop.

"I can't believe it…. I'm in the Phantom's Lair and I'm seeing the Phantom right in front of my eyes" She thought to herself, enchanted by her surroundings.

Mireille stepped forward, forgetting that she was intruding into the Phantom's space. Her boots made a loud tapping sound on the stone floor, and as she stepped forward she knocked a medium sized statue of a man's head on the floor, shattering the white plaster into millions of small fragments. The sound of the plaster head making contact with the cold floor woke up Mireille from her daydream. Her body froze in its place, her eyes looking towards the direction of the man, the Phantom.

* * *

He kept playing the keys of his organ, trying to perfect one of the songs for his opera. He still had not given it a title, but that didn't matter to him.

_"The title can come at the final stages,"_ He thought to himself.

As he kept on playing, he thought upon what Madame Giry had told him. He thought about the new girl that had mysteriously shown up at the front steps of his opera house. He then thought about how Madame Giry had dared to call him by that name. Erik…. How that name disgusted him! That name belonged to a time when he was weak, and he wasn't weak any longer. His anger rose to a very dangerous crescendo, causing the music that played to match his emotions. Suddenly, he heard a faint tap, followed by the sound of some sort of crystal, or stone breaking.

* * *

Mireille stayed quiet and looked on as the Phantom turned around to face her. Anger burned in his piercing green gray eyes. His hair was black and slicked back neatly. His outfit was a simple suit, with matching gloves. The infamous white mask covered the right side of his face but his left side was extremely attractive. His suit fit snugly against his well-built body, his gloved hands clenched into tight fists.

He turned around to face the intruder that managed to elude his best traps. His anger flowed in his bloodstream, making him clench his fist, when suddenly the sight that greeted him surprised him. A girl stood there. She looked like she was about 17-20, a year or so older than his Angel of Music. Her hair was in soft curls; her eyes had a deep amethyst color unlike any he had ever seen. Her lips were like rose buds at the brink of bloom and her body was well toned. Her feminine attributes complemented the beauty of her eyes.

"Who are you and why are you here!" The Phantom hissed.

"I got lost, and I found my way here by mere accident." Mireille responded, her voice remained cool and collected.

The Phantom got up and the walked up to Mireille, her body tensed, but she showed no fear.

He walked up to her after demanding the reason as to why she was here. He gazed into her eyes and found that the fear usually found in people's eyes as he got close was nowhere within her eyes. Her expression remained calm and serene.

"This girl…. She intrigues me…." The Phantom thought to himself as he examined her.


	6. Estimable Adversaire: Worthy Adversary

**Ch. 5 Estimable Adversaire: Worthy Adversary**

Mireille took deep breaths as the Phantom's haunting green eyes examined her. Her heart rate was at an all time high, and her chest felt like it was about to burst open. Her eyes looked away from him, towards the candles that surrounded his lair.

"_I wonder why he is inspecting me like cattle…" _Mireille thought to herself. The Phantom cleared his throat bringing her back to reality.

"I'm going to ask you one last time, you impudent wench, why are you here! Who sent you?" The Phantom's enraged voice boomed throughout the lair.

Mireille looks up at him, she did what none before her had dared do in his presence, and she looked at him straight in the eye, her eyes glowing with defiance.

"I told you, I stumbled upon your "home" by accident." Mireille's calm and soothing voice answered him.

The Phantom furiously paces back and forth, his piercing green eyes looked back to the girl that had not looked in fear, but in defiance at him and had not screamed because of his presence.

"Do you know what happens to rude girls, such as yourself that dare intrude into my haven?" The Phantom's voice was low and menacing.

"Let me guess…you are going to say that I'm going to die?" Mireille's voice was full of sarcasm.

The Phantom feels the fury inside of him overwhelm him; he raises his hand as if to strike the girl. Mireille sees his movements and quickly dodges the blow, sprinting towards a statue with a sword. The Phantom turned to face her, his eyes burning with his wrath, he quickly begun to make his way towards Mireille once more. Mireille eyed the sword held in the statue's hand, within a second, she grabbed the sword and pointed it towards the incoming Phantom.

"Don't get any closer. I do not wish to hurt you." Mireille's voice was quieter. She hoped to coax him into not doing anything irrational.

"Hah! Don't make me laugh. You think you can stand up to ME? THE PHANTOM!" His voice echoed in the lair, making him sound more sinister.

The Phantom walked towards another statue, and grabbed the sword it held, pointing it towards Mireille.

"All right Mademoiselle Rose, give me a reason why you are worthy of staying alive and working in MY opera house" He demanded.

"Fine…. I shall give it to you…" She responded. Quickly beginning to fight with him.

The swords clashed and the sounds boomed throughout the lair, both of them engulfed by the anger of the moment. The Phantom swung the sword at the air, as Mireille diligently dodged all of his blows.

"Pretty impressive mademoiselle…" The Phantom gasped for air. "You truly are quite skilled" The Phantom lunged towards her once more, Mireille quickly blocking it with her own sword.

"Thank you Monsieur Phantom…" Mireille's husky voice responded. "The same I say to you." Mireille circled the Phantom, looking for an opportunity to strike. After a few moments she saw the Phantom's weak spot, she rushed forward her sword firmly held within her grasp, She threw the sword up in the air, doing a back flip.

* * *

All the Phantom could do is stare in amazement at the girl's feat, his green-gray eyes observing the dark angel take her sword; he looked as the dark angel soared above him. He looked back down and heard the sound of the angel's feet landing behind him. He let out a sigh, knowing deep inside of himself that he was already beaten.

* * *

Mireille grabbed the sword in mid-air and landed gracefully behind him; She pushed him on to the ground and grabbed the sword from his unclenched hand. Mireille put one foot on top of his chest lightly and she pointed her sword towards his neck.

"Check-mate. I win." Mireille smugly answered.

* * *

The Phantom stared in awe at the girl. Her piercing violet eyes shined brightly back at him. The dim candlelight shrouding her body in darkness, but her eyes were two glowing orbs of amethyst. He also saw in her eyes the same reflection of sadness that his eyes held. He continued looking into eyes and moved on to her body. Her body shrouded in shadows. He fixed his gaze to her face and a memory from a past he had worked so hard to suppress was resurfacing in his mind.

He was merely 24, and had gone outside to get a full view of the gardens. The beauty of the flowers brought tears to his eyes. The sat there, sobbing uncontrollably until the sweet voice of a child awoke him from his sad dream.

"Why are you crying?" The gentle voice of the child asked him.

"The flowers…. Everything is beautiful and has friends but not me." He hangs his head, tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

"Let me see your face, I will tell you whether you're beautiful or not" She responded. Her

determination echoing in her voice, the voice of a beautiful nightingale.

He looked up and saw a girl, no older than 5 standing near him. Her hair was in beautiful chestnut curls that looked like a dark halo around her head. Her big, sparkling amethyst eyes that shined brightly in the light. Her face has delicate pale skin with rosy cheeks that made her look like a beautiful doll. Her lips were the shape of a small rosebud, having a hint of scarlet for coloring. She had a black dress with white lace along the neckline and the hemline of the skirt. She had small red roses on it; her dress had a large white bow on her lower back. She had beautiful black shoes that shined on the light and impeccable white stockings to go along with her dress. Within her small arms she held a bouquet of red roses.

"W…Why are you talking to me?" He asked, confusion expressed by his voice.

" Well, because you were crying and you're all alone silly!" the girl giggles. "What is your name?" she asks

"E..Erik…My name is Erik." He solemnly responds. "What is your name petite Mademoiselle?" He asks respectfully.

"Mireille. My name is Mireille Deessé."

The girl got closer to him. Closer than anyone had ever dared to be. Besides Mademoiselle Giry, she was the only one that had actually dared to come that close to him, unafraid of his deformity. Her soft hands gently slid off the mask that covered it. He closed his eyes waiting for her high-pitched screams of terror but what greeted his ears was the beautiful silence he was enjoying before.

"So that's why you don't have any friends?" she asked him, her voice full of sadness.

Erik could only nod at her remark, fresh tears trickling down his face.

"Don't cry…Please…" She pleaded with him. "Look, just so you won't cry, I will be your friend. What do you think of that?" she smiles

"You would really be my friend…Even after seeing my face?" His eyes shoot wide open in surprise and shine brightly with hope.

"Yes, of course. And to seal our agreement, here." She hands him one of the red roses from her bouquet. "These roses are for my Momma and Poppa that died, but I will give you one as a sign that we're friends" she smiled.

He could see the sadness that engulfed her, and he respected her for trying to smile for him during a very difficult time for her. She then set the bouquet down and kneeled down, setting her head down on his lap. Her curls spreading on it, like a shroud of brown.

" There, you see" the young Mireille looks up to Erik's green-gray eyes "You're not alone anymore." She smiled at him.

They sat together in that position for quite some time. Erik's hand slowly traveled to the child's curls and caressed her head gently.

After what seemed like an eternity the girl quickly got up and brushed the dirt off her dress.

"Oh my goodness, I have to go to the funeral for Momma and Poppa!" She exclaimed as she grabbed the bouquet of roses.

"Wait!" Erik exclaimed as he put his mask back on and slowly stood up. "When can I see you again?" He asked her.

"Oh, I don't really know. But I know we'll see each other again." She smiled at him and a white light engulfed her. Erik closed his eyes and when the light dissipated Mireille was gone.

* * *

The Phantom stared in shock as the girl holding a sword to his neck and the young child that had given him a token of her friendship to him looked eerily alike.

Mireille stepped off his chest and dropped the sword to the ground. She didn't want to kill him; she wanted to give him company. The company she knew he needed desperately.

"Hey, do you need any help getting up?" She asked, worried if she had wounded him.

"Your name isn't Adrienne Rose is it?" The Phantom asked.

Mireille's eyes shot wide open in surprise "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Mireille, is that you?" His voice was more soothing, and friendlier.

* * *

Erik, The Phantom was curious to see whether the girl in front of him was the kind child that had been his first friend in this cold, and dismal world.

"Your name isn't Adria, it is Mireille" He remarked.

He saw the look of shock and surprise wash over the girl's face.

"How did you know?" She asked him skeptically.

" I know, because we met before." He responded

* * *

Everything was going wrong. The Phantom knew that her name was Mireille and the gods only knew what else he knew about her.

"How did we meet? I don't remember ever meeting you…" Mireille remarked.

"It was long ago, I was sitting in a garden alone, when a beautiful child of merely 5 years of age offered me her friendship and one of the roses that were meant for her parent's funeral." He softly replied.

Mireille's mind rushed to see if what he said was true. The only thing she remembers is spending a weekend with her uncle, a few days after her parents had been assassinated. She had gone into the library and a white light engulfed her. She had been looking for her uncle, and had with her the bouquet of red roses for her parents' grave. She found a man who was sobbing and she gave him a rose and told him that he wasn't alone. But for all of these years she had simply dismissed it as a dream. A delusion created by her young mind to cope with the loss of her parents. Now it seemed that wasn't the case.

"Oh," She looks into his eyes. "I thought that was only a dream. A dream that I created after the death of my parents." Her eyes well up with tears but she fights to keep them contained.

" You haven't changed at all. You are still as beautiful as a porcelain doll" He remarks. "But you are a porcelain doll that is broken inside, just like me." His voice sounds melancholic.

"W… Wait…this is too much. You're Erik?" She looks at him, her confusion written all over her face.

He sighed. He knew he didn't want anyone calling him by that name. Erik, the cursed name that brought all of his weaknesses to the surface and damned his soul. He would make an exception and let her, his one and only true, real friend call him that. "Yes….I am Erik. You have proven yourself worthy of working at MY opera house and I wish to talk to you some more." He finally proclaimed.

"So, Erik…. You're the Phantom that they speak of in the Opera House?" She asked him.

"Yes, I am" He firmly responded.

"That's…. Impressive" she smirks, sitting down on a stool and crossing her legs, giving Erik a full view of her toned legs.

Erik looks down at the beautiful lethal angel that sits before him. His once innocent porcelain angel had become a full-fledged angel of darkness. He knew there was some secret that lurked inside her heart but he would not press her to reveal it to him. His Nightingale managed to beat him in a duel. She obviously had very lethal skills up her sleeves. She had proven herself to be an equal to him. His one and only worthy adversary, that could provide him with the hope of salvation from his hell.


	7. Ch 6 Mademoiselle Ingénu: Miss Naive

Hey people, and here's the sixth chapter of my fanfic. Sorry it took so long but I've gotten a pretty bad case of creativity block. Hope you like it and please, review.

* * *

**Ch. 6 Mademoiselle Ingénu: Miss Naive**

Erik moved towards his organ, softly playing a beautiful melody. Mireille explored his lair, finding it more beautiful by the minute. She then spotted a large wall full of many paintings and sketches. She looked closer to a larger one and saw that all of them were of the same girl. Curly brown hair, large brown eyes that screamed out innocence and foolishness to Mireille. Her lips were red, but her face still held her childish features.

"This must be Christine Daae, I assume." She called out to Erik, her voice showing her contempt.

Erik turned around, surprised by how cold and indifferent Mireille sounded.

"Y… Yes…It is her, my Angel of Music." He responded his voice full of admiration. "She has much potential. I have taken her under my wing in the hopes that she will one day become a Primma Donna."

His eyes glimmered with hope as he spoke about her, fueling Mireille's flames of wrath. Mireille nodded and continued on her exploration. Erik turned back and continued on playing his organ. After a few minutes, Mireille unconsciously began singing once more.

"Sing for me farewell

That sweet sound

Of the past days

It always remember me

The life of the love

Beloveds of my heart

Oh happy, you my soul

Sing slowly...

Strengthen your lyre and sing

The hymn of death

The sky opens to us

They fly to the ray

The life of the love

Beloveds of my heart

Oh happy, you my soul

Sing farewell..."

Mireille's haunting voice echoed throughout the lair, freezing Erik from playing his organ. Erik felt his heart flutter as her sadness and sorrow were channeled into her song. He stood up and walked towards her, trying his best not to break the beautiful trance she was in.

"Mireille?" He whispered to her.

Mireille turned around, surprised by him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you" Her amethyst eyes looked into his eyes once more, the power she had over him growing stronger.

"Do not worry about it. Tell me, where did you learn how to sing like that."

"I don't really know. I must have picked it up from my mother. She used to sing to me all the time before…before…" Mireille stops herself, feeling the pain of her loss stab at her heart.

"If you do not wish to talk about it, I understand. It is better to leave certain things unsaid." He responds. "Now come, I will show you the way back to your room. Otherwise Madame Giry will be worried about you."

"Wait! You are not going to tell her about my true identity are you?" Mireille's face showed worry.

"No. I will not. For it would mean that we would be separated again and that would break my heart. I do not wish for my one and only friend to leave my side."

Mireille nodded in agreement, her cheeks getting a hint of scarlet.

"Thank you." She gave Erik a warm smile.

"Now come, follow me," Erik said as he grabbed a candelabra and made his way through the passageway Mireille had gone through before.

As they both walked through the passageway, Mireille's mind rushed from thought to thought and they all lead back to her, Christine Daae.

"_I hate her. I've hated her since I heard her goddamned name when my mother read this book to me. She made Erik unhappy and SHE made him cry. She must be eliminated if Erik is to be happy. There is no other choice. Hey…Since I'm in this book in the first place, I should have the pleasure of killing her myself. It looks like Noir is going to have to get back in business in this world as well."_

* * *

Erik led the way back to Mireille's room. He kept wondering how his Angel of Music was doing. He couldn't keep his mind off her.

"_I love her innocence, her beauty and most of all, her angelic voice. She's my light in the sea of darkness I live in."_

He turned to find Mireille lost in thought, her face, showing the seriousness that any adult would have. He slowed down his pace and studied her features in the dim light that the candelabra was providing. He always had to look into those eyes, the enchanting eyes of this new angel.

"_She is the opposite of my Angel of Music. She has matured beyond her years, her hauntingly melancholic voice and the darkness within her that makes her menacing. Has heaven decided to test me? Do the heavens wish for me to decide between a bright Angel of Music and a haunting Angel of Darkness?"_

Erik brushed away his thoughts and decided to break the heavy silence that hung between him and Mireille.

* * *

"What are you thinking about, Mireille?" Erik's soothing voice invaded Mireille's thoughts, snapping her back to reality.

Mireille's head jolted up startled. "Oh, it's nothing…I'm just trying to prepare myself for what is to come tomorrow" Mireille whispered.

"Well, you seemed so serious, I was getting worried about you." Erik stated as he opened the secret door. "We're here" he put his index finger on her lips. "If you should ever wish to speak to me, come through this door. Good night, Mireille."

Mireille felt his finger off her lips and when she turned around to thank him, he was gone.

"_Typical. The Phantom ALWAYS has to make a grand mysterious exit."_ Mireille sighed as she headed back towards her room, but before that, she needed to make a quick stop by the costume area, in order to create an outfit worthy of Noir's abilities.

"_I have this aerodynamic cloak…I could literally jump off buildings and fly with the thing, that will be quite useful in this… time period"_

Mireille scanned the costumes, trying to find something fitting for Noir's image, until she found it. A gorgeous mask that covered the lower part of the mannequin's face, it had silver stitching and violet velvet trimming. Mireille snatched the mask off the mannequin and headed back to her room, determined to make Noir as famous in that world as she was famous in the modern world.

* * *

The next day, Mireille got up an hour early and begun exercising in her room, she did her normal routine of 200 push-ups, 400 crunches and leg exercises. She then took a quick bath and got in her other exercise outfit. It consisted of a violet camisole and tight black pants. She got the remains of her curls, which were now heavy waves of hair and put them in a ponytail. Five minutes after, she heard a knock on her door. Mireille quickly opens the door to find a petite blonde standing in front of her. The girl looks no older than 16 and has long blonde hair, her eyes shine a sparkling blue and a sweet smile on her face. Her hair is pulled back a bit by a white bow.

"Are you Adria?" Her calm and friendly voice echoes in Mireille's room.

Mireille nods, remembering she's under an alias. "Yes, and you must be Meg, Madame Giry's daughter. It's a pleasure to meet you" Mireille extends her hand out to Meg, as a friendly gesture.

Meg takes her hand and lightly shakes it. "Is that what you'll be wearing for dance practice?" Meg asks as she eyes the strange clothing Mireille has on.

"Yes, I hope you won't mind, but I feel more comfortable practicing in my own clothing. Besides, I honestly don't think I'll be participating much in dancing."

"Do not be so harsh on yourself, my mother will be the judge of that, now follow me. My mother dislikes unpunctuality." Meg turns around and starts to walk quickly towards the Opera stage, Mireille following close behind.

Meg heard the hurried steps of someone coming behind, she turns around and squeals and heads back. Mireille stands there, wondering who it is and she turns around to find out.

"Christine! It is so good to see you again!" Meg says as she hugs her friend tightly.

"Why Meg! You sound as if I had been dead" Christine answers.

"Um…I'm sorry to break up this very touching moment" Mireille's voice fills with sarcasm. "But, Meg, would you be kind enough to introduce me to whoever she is?"

Meg looks at Mireille, wondering about her sarcastic tone. "Oh, Adria, this is Christine, Christine, Adria." Meg announces.

Mireille steps forward examining her opponent, trying to find a physical weakness that might come in handy when she needs it. Christine had dark brown curls and a very pale complexion. She had large hazel eyes that made her face look childish and innocent and her lips were as pink as a peach.

"Charmed." Mireille rolls her eyes as she meets her opponent.

"I heard that you are not from Paris, is that correct?" Christine asks.

"Yes, I was born in Corsica but I have been abroad for most of my life."

"I think we should get going, otherwise my mother will not be pleased." Meg warned both Mireille and Christine as she dashed off to join the forming line of dancers.

"I think we should get going..." Christine begins to speak as Mireille gives her the cold shoulder and walks off towards the line of dancers, leaving Christine in mid sentence.

A few hours later, dance practice was over and Mireille was standing in a corner by herself. No one would dare go near her. Mireille knew that they feared her, and she thrived in such conditions, so she didn't let it get to her. Her head perked up as she heard some of the dancers talking about The Phantom of the Opera…Her Erik.

"Yes, they say that he flies from box to box and devours his victim's hearts." One of the dancers exclaims.

"Oh, please…those are just stupid little stories to scare dim-witted dance girls like yourselves. But I rather worry about real dangers, such as Noir" Mireille insinuates.

"Noir? What the hell is that?" Another dancer asks, her voice shaking.

"Come on!" Mireille exclaims. "Don't tell me you don't know about the legendary Noir! But, do any of you wish for me to tell you about Noir?" Mireille asks, her voice dangerously low.

The group of dancers all nod, their curiosity and their thirst for new gossip material getting the best of them, Mireille knew she had them eating out of her hand.

"Alright, I shall. Noir is an assassin. But not just any assassin, Noir is a woman, and she kills with up most efficiency. I saw her once, when I was in Corsica. She had killed an entire mob of men in under 3 minutes, and she turned around to look in the direction I was hiding in, and I tell you, I feared for my life." Mireille narrates.

All of the dancers surrounded Mireille, each wanting to hear her extraordinary tale.

"Noir's eyes glow like amethysts. It's like she's not human. She's the goddess of Death in human form. Her signature, that's how they know that all of the dead bodies were men that she killed, is a black rose on a small silver dagger with "NOIR" engraved in it. Now see, that's what you should be fearing, not some foolish Phantom that makes the curtains move by themselves." Mireille scoffs and breaks the hypnotic storytelling.

The dancers all go off to the dormitories, their mouths buzzing with the new gossip about a legendary assassin known as Noir.


	8. Ch 7 Noveau Allié: New Ally

**Ch. 7 Noveau Allié: New Ally**

"_Associate yourself with people of good company, for it is better to be alone than in bad company."_ _-_ Booker T. Washington

Mireille underestimated the power of the gossiping dance girls. Over the course of a week, they had managed to spread Noir's name throughout the city of Paris, everyone bustling about the legendary assassin with god-like abilities. Those rumors came back to Mireille's ears as she walked about the streets of Paris with Meg and Christine. They had been sent on an errand for Madame Giry. Mireille picked up parts of the conversations between people about Noir, their speculations almost making her fall on the ground and roll with laughter.

_"They practically think I'm some sort of wife's tale. Hahahaha, that's ridiculous. There is a myriad of rational explanations but these are simple minded imbeciles…I will use that to my advantage"_ Mireille thought to herself as a smug grin spread across her face.

* * *

Meg looked about as she talked to Christine. She saw an expression of arrogance across Adria's face. Meg motioned towards Christine and they both stared at Adria. As they looked at her they noticed that most men were looking at her.

Meg got closer to Christine and whispered to her childhood friend. "Hey Christine, look, all the men are looking at Adria…. and she's acting like she doesn't notice."

"I think she's being modest. Don't worry about it." Christine whispered back.

* * *

Mireille heard Meg and Christine murmur about the stares she was getting from all the men.

"What are you both whispering about?" Mireille innocently asked.

"Oh, it's nothing Adria." Christine answered, a small smile on her face.

_"You hypocritical bitch, of course you were talking about me…I bet you're jealous that I get all the attention from the men instead of you. But don't worry, little naïve idiot, I will take you out of your misery soon."_ Mireille maliciously thought to herself.

* * *

After getting what Madame Giry asked for, the girls headed back to the Opera House. Mireille lagging behind to take in her surroundings and find easy escape routes if needed.

"Adria, come on, hurry up. My mother will not be happy if we get there late!" Meg yelled at Mireille.

"I'm coming!" Mireille answered back to her, running in the dress that constricted her movements.

Mireille caught up to Meg and Christine and headed into the main entrance of the Opera House. Madame Giry greeted them as they headed inside.

"Oh, Meg, Christine, Adria, welcome back. Oh, Adria, there is a man that is here to see you." Madame Giry says.

"A man? Did he tell you his name?" Mireille inquires.

"Oui, he said that his name was Armand De La Guerre" Madame Giry replied.

"I will see what he wants. Where is he Madame Giry?"

"He's in the lounge area over there." Madame Giry points to a large door leading to a lobby where the operagoers usually mingle. "I'll make sure no one bother you." She reassures Mireille.

"Thank you" Mireille turns around and walks into the lobby, closing the door behind her.

A man all clad in black sat down on a comfortable red lounge chair. His eyes held a gray color that matched the gray of storm clouds. His sharp nose held up high and his hair tied back in a low ponytail, except for a few stray locks of dark brown hair hung down and covered some of his face. His pale pallor made him glow in the dim light that made it's way through the windows. His legs were crossed and had black leather boots on them. His face was handsome except for some wrinkles that showed the signs of aging.

"Ah, you must be Adrienne Rose. The one that has told all of Paris about this "Noir" I presume." His voice was cool but held a lethal sharpness to it.

"Yes. What do you want?" Mireille impatiently asked, her annoyance clearly visible.

"I wish to make contact with Noir…there are certain individuals that must be eliminated and I wish to extend an invitation for Noir as well . . ." The man gets up and slowly walks towards Mireille, his pace slow and menacing.

"I can arrange a meeting with Noir, but I don't guarantee anything." Mireille states dryly

"I can accept that, but oh, we haven't properly introduced ourselves. My name is Count Armand De La Guerre, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance" He bows down to Mireille.

"I am Adrienne Rose, monsieur, charmed" Mireille holds out her hand for him.

Armand takes her hand and gracefully kisses the top of it lightly.

"I hope Noir will be able to meet with me." Armand casually remarked.

"Of course, if you provide Noir with missions, she will gladly do what you wish. On her terms, of course"

"It was a pleasure talking to someone as beautiful as you" Armand remarks to Mireille, getting closer to her. "I wish to get to know you better mademoiselle…" He whispers.

Mireille simply nods. Staring into the steel gray eyes of Armand.

"It all depends…whatever Noir decides"

"I understand. Good day mademoiselle, it was a true pleasure meeting you."

Armand bows down to Mireille and then hastily walks off but stops in front of the lounge door.

"Please tell Noir to meet me at the outside of Notre Dame cathedral this evening. I shall be waiting for her there" Armand says before he walks out of the lounge, leaving Mireille to her thoughts.

* * *

Erik was wondering about his opera house, spying about at the people living in it. He noticed in the main entrance that the lounge door was shut.

_"That's strange…why would they shut that door."_ He thought to himself as he made his way through secret corridors towards his spying station in the lounge area.

Erik got behind the large painting and removed the eye covering, looking around to find his best friend Mireille in the company of some man.

He got closer to the wall, listening to their conversation.

"It was a pleasure talking to someone as beautiful as you" the man said to Mireille as he stared into her eyes.

Erik felt a surge of jealousy towards the man.

_"How dare that fool look upon Mireille that way! She's MY friend, no one else's."_ He angrily thought to himself as he looked on.

The man suddenly walked off towards the door and Erik only made out one word that he said to Mireille, Noir.

Erik had enough and walked towards the secret door of the lounge area as the man walked out.

* * *

Mireille wandered about what proposal he had in store for Noir, debating whether to agree to meet him or not.

_"I must meet him…He could prove useful in getting money and more weapons if needed. That's it, it's final, I shall meet Armand, and may the gods bless my new association."_ Mireille thought to herself, determined.

Mireille heard the soft footsteps of someone coming behind her, she grabbed one of her daggers and flung it at whoever it was, and quickly turning around to find it was only Erik, the dagger missing him by mere centimeters.

"What was that for my porcelain doll?" Erik asks her, bewildered by her behavior.

Mireille walks towards her dagger, nudging it out of the wall. "Next time Erik, please don't sneak up on me like that…. otherwise I will not be responsible if you get injured."Mireille responded, matter of factly.

"Porcelain doll, why was that man talking to you?" Erik asks. His voice more serious and menacing.

"Erik…can we talk about this in a more…private place. Someone can barge in and they might see you." Mireille whispered.

Erik nodded, taking Mireille's hand into his own, pressing it lightly. Mireille's cheeks became a bit scarlet, her face feeling hot as Erik held her hand and lead her down the secret corridors to his lair.

* * *

Erik turned to see his beautiful porcelain doll to see the Angel of Darkness once more. Mireille's face was framed by the shadows of the catacombs, her eyes shining brightly in the dim light. Erik gulps and continues walking towards his lair, seeing the faint golden light of the candles.

* * *

Erik and Mireille finally arrive at the lair, Erik slowly turning towards Mireille.

"Mireille, I ask you one more time… why was that man talking to you?" Erik's voice grows louder.

"That my beautiful Erik is none of your concern." Mireille answers coldly.

"I heard the name NOIR! Now tell me what do you have to do with this assassin?" Erik's voice booms through the lair, sending shivers of fear down Mireille's spine.

"I am a spy for Noir, happy now?" Mireille yells at Erik with the same intensity as his voice.

"I simply wished to know that. I thought you trusted me…Mireille" Erik's voice becomes softer and sadderand he turns around, walking slowly towards his organ.

Mireille sighs and feels terrible for yelling at Erik, hurting her to see him in pain in any way, shape or form.

"Erik…. I trust you, that's why I need to tell you something important…." Mireille stops and waits for his response.

Erik looks back to see Mireille's face full of remorse.

"What is it Mireille?"

"I…I need to tell you that ….I'm not from this time." Mireille blurted out.

"Wait, what?" Erik looks at Mireille skeptically.

"I'm not from this time. I'm from the year 2006."

"That's not possible."

"It is. I come from that year. That should explain to you why I have "strange" clothing and various skills. I shall not give you any more information on history of my time."

"If that is true, then what are you doing here?"

"I have some lesson to learn here, but I also wanted to come to…" Mireille hesitates, her cheeks turning a bright scarlet color. "See you, Erik." Mireille smiles as she says his name.

"Really? To see me?" Erik asks her, surprised.

"Yes…to see my beautiful Erik once more" Mireille smiles as she walks towards him, hugging his back and facing his organ.

Erik holds her hands close to his chest, his heartbeat racing. Never before being hugged by a person of the opposite gender. Mireille's heartbeat does the same, never feeling the strange sensation that she felt with Erik. Mireille closed her eyes and took in Erik's scent.

They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. Each wondering what feeling the other invoked in them. The bond between the disfigured genius and the angel of darkness growing each passing second.

* * *

Mireille walked back to her room slowly. Making some time so the opera house and its activities would fall into deep slumber. Mireille closed her room's door behind her and she got out her suitcases from under her bed. She got out her black velvet pants and the black cloak. The black boots she wore for her "normal" attire would serve just fine. She then went to the small closet where she had hidden a beautiful black corset with many belt straps on it, taking it out and setting it on her bed.

Mireille slowly freed herself from the constricting dress she wore.

_"Finally, I'm out of this ridiculous outfit. Now it's time for Noir to take over."_

Mireille threw the dress and the corset that came along with it on the floor, donning her black pants and long sleeved shirt. She then put on the black corset over the shirt, tightening it with the belt straps. She took out the black mask that she had stolen from the costume area of the Opera and put it over her lips, her eyes the only feature of her face visible. The black cloak was the final touch to her outfit. She strapped her daggers and guns to her cloak and own body, making sure each one of them was both secure and easily accessible if necessary. She blew out the candles and slipped out of her room stealthily, taking cover in the shadows of the opera house.

* * *

Armand paced up and down the large corridor leading to Notre Dame Cathedral. He saw some petals blow in the wind and land at his feet. He picked one up and in the dim light he saw that it was a black rose petal.

"What in the world?" Armand whispered to himself.

"Bonjour, monsieur Armand De La Guerre" A female voice answered.

Armand turned around to find a woman clad in black, only her piercing amethyst eyes were visible in the faint light of the Parisian night.

"Noir, I presume." Armand replied.

"Yes, Miss Adria informed that you had a proposition for me, now I wish to know what it is, and if it is in my best interest." Noir smugly replied.

"Oh, yes. I wish for you to join my elite group of assassins known as the Rozen Maidens. I search for the best assassins and I wish for you to join us."

"What is in it for me?"

"Money, influence, plus, I can get any weapon or poison you wish to get your hand upon or made."

"Well, it sounds…intriguing. I accept your offer on 2 conditions. One, Adria needs money and well, she doesn't wish to participate in any operas, and she only wishes to live in the opera house, so that demand must be met. Second, if anyone dares to commission me or any in your organization to kill "The Opera Ghost" I will take the pleasure in killing you all. Is that clear?"

"Very clear Noir. I shall inform Adria of your first mission tomorrow. Until then, good night."

"Good night, monsieur."

Armand turned around to get his hat and when he turned to face Noir again, she was gone.


	9. Ch 8 Gracieux Assassin: Graceful Murder

_Hello readers of "Angel of Darkness". I greatly apologize for the tardiness with this chapter, but I had a massive case of writer's block. But anyways, the song that Mireille sung in 2 of the previous chapters is the english translation to an italian song "Canta Per Me" or "Sing for me" by Yuki Kajiura. Now that credit is given where it's due, please enjoy this extra long chapter._

**----------------------------------------------------------------**

**Ch. 8 Gracieux Assassin: Graceful Murderer**

_"Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder"_- Octave Mirbeau

Mireille awoke up from her short-lived slumber, her mind already thinking up methods of killing her targets. She takes a deep breath and sighs, slowly sitting up and wiping her eyes. How she loathed crying in her sleep. It made her more weak and vulnerable than she seemed.

"_I hate it…I hate showing weakness. My enemies could use it to their goddamned advantage. I must lock away any emotions I feel. They are unnecessary. The only emotion I should feel is hatred towards those bastards that killed my family. They will pay dearly for that…hehehe…I'll avenge my family's death…I must, in the name of my mother and father, I must."_

Mireille paced up and down, trying to strategize about worst-case scenarios that involved her identity being revealed. A loud knocking came from her door, interrupting her train of thoughts. Mireille sighed, and she opened the door, revealing Madame Giry.

"Good morning child" Madame Giry started speaking before laying eyes on Mireille. "Goodness gracious! Adria you are not wearing anything!" Madame Giry stated, as she looked up and down Mireille's body, seeing Mireille in her camisole and short shorts, her eyes wide with shock and dismay.

"I…Umm…this is the only thing I have to sleep in." Mireille shyly smiles.

"Oh, well, may I come in? I have some urgent news for you."

"Of course!" Mireille steps out of the way, allowing Madame Giry passage into her room. "What is it that you wish to speak to me about?" Mireille stated as she shut the door behind her.

"Well…" Madame Giry started speaking, her tone becoming less hasty and more collected. "The managers of the opera house wished for me to inform you that you are not to take part in any of the operas. Unless you wish it, that is. Oh, and before I forget, that man that came to see you the day before, Armand was it? He sent a messenger to let you know that he will come by a little after 3 in the afternoon to see you."

Mireille nodded as she heard the information Madame Giry had told her. "Yes, I understand."

"You are not sleeping with him are you child?" Madame Giry inquired. Her steel blue eyes burning into Mireille's trying to find an answer.

"No! Madame! Of course not!" Mireille's voice revealed her indignation at Madame Giry's remark.

"I'm just trying to protect you. Men sometimes have horrid intentions with girls. I do not wish for you to share the same fate that some of my unfortunate pupils have had in the past"

"I know Madame, I know."

"Meg will come bring you your breakfast later child. I hope I can see you around the opera house." Madame Giry gave Mireille a kind, motherly smile.

"Thank you Madame Giry, for everything."

Madame Giry nodded as she walked out of Mireille's room. Mireille looked about her vast and empty room, wishing for Erik's presence.

"_Why the hell am I thinking about Erik…He cares for Christine and most likely would not care to be together with someone like me. An angel of death that takes other's sins upon it's own hands …the blood stained black hands that deliver the fates of many. He would not care for me as a lover. No one would. Love is an emotion that is not meant for me. Besides…If he were to love an assassin, his life would be in danger, since my enemies would love to get their hands on him to harm me." _Mireille solemnly thought to herself.

She made her way towards the closet, slowly opening the door and grabbing a black bag and opening it. She diligently placed her "costume" in it, zipping the bag up and placing it near the closet door.

"_If Erik watched Christine through a mirror, it is highly likely that he could watch me in the same way…I cannot risk my identity as Noir to be compromised."_

Mireille's eyes caught the glint of something in one of her suitcases. Her hand quickly removed some of her clothing and she took out a beautiful blue flute. Opposing ends were decorated with gold. The left side of it had small pink jewel flowers on it and on the other end, a small pink flower hung from a small gold chain. Mireille had a sad smile on her face as she looked at the flute.

"_My mother's flute…I had forgotten that I had it with me" _

Her grip tightened around the flute, her knuckles turning white. Mireille shut her eyes tightly, memories of her mother overwhelming her. Mireille opened her eyes, anger coursing though her veins like a silent poison, corrupting her every thought. Her breathing became heavy, she tried to calm down but finally, in order to ease her anger, she begun to play her flute once more, sending a haunting melody through the air.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Erik walked in the passageways that connected to the mirror in the room of his Angel of Music. Erik walked past the passageways that lead to Mireille's room when he heard a haunting tune that stopped him in his tracks. He closed his eyes and listened intently to the tune, thinking it was in his head.

"_Wh…where is this music coming from? Such sadness…such sorrow…its like the cry of a fallen angel."_

Erik tried to focus on the sound, and made his way through the dark passageways when suddenly he found the source of the music. Erik looked through the mirror and saw his only friend, Mireille gracefully playing a beautiful flute. Mireille's gaze was looking towards an unknown horizon. Erik's eyes wandered down to her body and opened wide in surprise, not expecting to see her in very little clothing. He gulped nervously, never before seeing a woman in such intimate attire before.

"_Oh my god…Mireille…My beautiful porcelain doll…She looks like a beautiful fallen angel…"_

Erik opened the mirror passageway, hesitating for a few seconds, remembering the incident at the lobby. After pondering about whether or not to go in, he makes up his mind and stealthily walked inside, closing it as silently as he could, not wishing to break the trance Mireille was in.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Mireille continued to play, allowing the pain that she kept inside to be set free once more, soothing her already black soul. She heard the sounds of footsteps coming from the side of her room where the mirror was, she stopped playing, setting the flute gently down on her lap. She took a deep breath and looked up at Erik.

"Erik…What are you doing here?" Mireille's voice sounded cold and indifferent.

"I was wondering about the passageways of the opera house when the beautiful sound of your flute intrigued me. I simply wished to know the source of such exquisite music." Erik responded.

Mireille set the flute down on her bed, and stood up.

"Well, I guess you found out my little secret. That flute was my mother's. She taught me to play it before…. before…. before she was killed." Mireille ushered the last words.

Erik stood silent, letting her words sink in.

"How…Why was your mother murdered?" Erik innocently asked.

"I…I don't know all the details but my mother, my father and my little brother were assassinated before my very eyes. My memories of that night are very vague, only fragments of images that are arranged in a chaotic pattern. Mostly images of blood covered walls…. that is all I can remember."

A dreary silence hung in the air, Erik trying to find ways to make his friend feel better with no avail, not having that many people skills. Mireille fighting the tears that threaten to come out, not wishing to seem weak.

Erik cleared his throat, ending the silence. "Um Mireille…" Erik begun to speak, his voice pulling Mireille away from her internal battle between her and her emotions.

"Yes Erik." Mireille awkwardly smiles at him her eyes looking into his, her mind wondering what he wants to say.

"I was wondering if…." He gulps down his nervousness, trying to maintain some composure. "If you would be kind enough to join me for dinner"

Mireille's eyes look into his, giving him an apologetic look "I'm sorry, it's just that…well, I had plans with Armand…" Mireille smiles weakly as she says so.

"Armand huh…that man that came to see you yesterday, is it not?" Erik's voice held a hint of resentment.

"Yes" Mireille nods. "Yes…and speaking of which, it's almost 3 o'clock, I must get ready" Mireille turned her back towards Erik.

Erik sighed, his soul raging by her kind rejection to his invitation but he respected her choice.

"Fine…I will see you tomorrow then porcelain doll…" He walks back into the mirror passageway, closing it behind him.

Erik stepped out of Mireille's room and walked back towards his lair, his thoughts circling around Mireille and his Angel of Music, his Prima Donna, his beautiful Christine Daae.

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Mireille looked back towards the large mirror as Erik closed it behind him.

"_I am so sorry my beautiful Erik…but I must please my new boss."_

Mireille got dressed quickly, putting on a corset, trying the back of it loosely, then putting on a pale dress over it, and preparing her hair. Mireille put on her boots and took a deep breath before heading out her door, towards her new boss.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Armand paced up and down the lobby, impatiently waiting for Noir's emissary, Adria. He brushed aside one of his bangs, and smirked to himself.

"_My, my…I can't believe I had Noir so close…Miss Adria may fool everyone else, but she doesn't fool me, she is Noir. There is absolutely nobody in Paris who has violet eyes, except for her."_

The noise of someone clearing their throat disrupted Armand's thoughts. He looked up and saw Adria looking at him, a smirk across her face.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Armand paced up and down, lost in thought, in a similar outfit to the one Mireille saw on him when they met the day before. Mireille looked on and cleared her throat, putting on a smirk on her face as he looked up to meet her gaze.

"I am here monsieur Armand, now what is Noir's first mission?"

A smile appeared across Armand's face as he laid eyes on Mireille.

"Ah, I was waiting for you miss Adria. Or should I say Noir…" He whispers as Mireille walked up to him.

Mireille stopped dead in her tracks, the color flushing out of her face. Her body tensed as she let his words sink in and her mind processed them.

"H… How…how did you know?" Mireille whispered, her eyes wide with shock.

Armand chuckled as he stepped forward, making the distance between them shorter.

"That, my gorgeous Adria is very simple." He chuckled one more time. "It is because of those gorgeous eyes of yours" He looked into Mireille's eyes intently.

"M . . . My eyes?" Mireille showed bewilderment.

"Yes, dear Adria. There is no one else in Paris with those gorgeous gem-like eyes of yours. You are like a rare diamond in the sea of pearls" Armand smirked as his comment made Mireille's cheeks turn a pale red.

"I…I…"Mireille was speechless as Mireille's mind rushed to rationalize the situation.

" _Oh, heavens! What am I to do now!…But maybe this is for the best; I must change the subject of to that of my mission."_

Mireille took a deep breath and regained her composure.

"What is my first mission as one of the Rozen Maidens?" Mireille's expression shows no emotion.

"Ah, yes, business before pleasure I see. All right, your first mission is to eliminate Monsieur Val Canning and his mistress Madam Laverne" Armand hands Mireille a folded piece of paper. " On that piece of paper the address to the Canning manor and a map of where they will be this evening are included. Do you have any special requests?"

Mireille nodded. "Yes, here" Mireille hands Armand a beautiful long, narrow-bladed dagger with an intricate handle. A small black rose decorated the small area between the handle and the blade, the name Noir was engraved on the thin blade. "This is my favorite weapon. It's an stiletto, and I am in need of more of them and these" Mireille hands Armand a dagger that is decorated in a similar fashion to the stiletto. "I'm running low on my daggers. As far as revolvers are concerned, I am covered."

"Anything else?" Armand asked, admiring the craftsmanship of the daggers.

"No, that is it. Um…I also need to ask you for a favor Armand."

"Yes?" Armand's interest is sparked by Mireille's statement.

"I was wondering if I could change into my Noir costume at your place, since I do not wish for my identity to be revealed."

"Understandable. I shall wait for you outside in my carriage, bring the weapons you will need for your first mission and your clothing."

Mireille nodded and headed towards her room.

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Mireille rushed into her room and grabbed the black bag near her closet door, unzipping it and grabbing 2 of her P.99 Walther handguns and a dagger, placing them in the bag and zipping it back up. She grabbed the handles of the bag and rushed out, impatient to get her first mission over with.

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Mireille got into Armand's carriage, his driver helping her into it, closing the carriage door behind her.

Armand looked at Mireille as she sat down, her face showing her impatience.

"I guess you are not a patient person Noir…" Armand closed the small curtains of the carriage, taking out the dagger that Noir gave him.

Mireille smirks, and glares at him. "I am not a patient woman. Besides, I've been aching to show Paris what Noir can do."

Armand nods, the carriage roughly making its way through the cobblestone Parisian streets.

"Armand… I was wondering if you had any paintings or images of my targets, that would help me a lot and save me some time."

"Oh, yes…" He opens his jacket and takes out another folded piece of paper and hands it to Mireille. "Here, these are the most current photographs of Monsieur Canning and Madame Laverne"

Mireille's eyes open the piece of paper and scan the images. Monsieur Canning was a short stocky man, with a graying beard and arrogant expression. A simple black suit and black top hat contrasted greatly with his pale skin. The image next to his portrayed a seductive looking woman. Her blonde locks were tied back in a loose bun, letting some blonde curls free. Her piercing pale eyes shined in the black and white photo and her eccentric dress was scandalous even for Mireille.

"Why am I going to eliminate these targets?" Mireille solemnly asked.

"You see, Monsieur Canning is involved in the Opium trade, his mistress is also involved in that, she sells the opium under the cover of a respectable _maison de rendezvous_"

"So basically, she's selling an illegal substance in a whorehouse, correct?"

"Precisely! My Noir! You are the sharpest assassin yet." Armand remarked, emphasizing on the name Noir.

"Yes, but there has to be something more… Dangerous that he is involved in otherwise any other petty assassin would have taken the both of them out long ago."

Armand looked at her, and was surprised by how intelligent Noir was.

"Well yes. There is a risk that he might cause an international crisis between France, Italy and Germany. That is why you are assigned for the job. I believe that you are the only one in all of France with the capabilities to handle such a mission. In any case, I wouldn't trust any of the other Rozen Maidens for this particular mission."

Mireille chuckled. "You know, out of all of the people I've met in this city, it is you that I find trustworthy."

"If you are saying that because I know your identity my sweet Noir, do not fret. I will not expose you, since that would mean that my beautiful Rozen Maidens would be exposed as well."

"Yes, and you wouldn't want your beautiful interest compromised, right?"

"You are correct once again Noir"

Both Armand and Mireille smirk as they gaze into each other's eyes, each knowing that they had finally reached a mutual understanding.

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Mireille put on her last clothing attire to finish the Noir costume. She walked out of the room, Armand stood speechless by the authority Mireille held as Noir. Armand gulped down some of his fear as he begun speaking to her.

"Good luck Noir, I will await for you here until you return."

"Thank you Armand, I just hope this mission will be a success." Mireille smiled under her mask.

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Mireille hid in the shadows of the vast garden, loading her handgun and preparing her signature dagger. She looked on to the large manor, where a grand party was taking place.

"_Perfect, the sound of the music will obscure the beautiful sound of death's wings and my gunshots." _Mireille thought to herself as she looked at the party guests enjoying themselves.

She kept watch until both her targets walked out together into the dark and obscure garden. The stayed close to each other and whispered into each other's ears. The woman, Madam Laverne giggled somewhat loudly every three minutes. Loud orchestral music came from the manor and Mireille decided it was time to strike.

Mireille stepped out of the shadows before her unsuspecting victims.

"Good evening Monsieur, Madam." Mireille nodded her head towards each one of them.

Both the man and the woman stared in fear as Mireille stepped closer.

"Who…who are you?" Monsieur Canning stammered.

"My name is of no importance," Mireille coldly answered back.

"Answer him!" a frightened Madam Laverne spit out.

"Fine…My name is …Noir" Mireille's icy words hung in the air as both Monsieur Canning and Madame Laverne stared in fear.

Mireille didn't want them to finish their thoughts; she quickly took out her P99 handgun and shot the both of them twice in the lower base of their head, striking their medulla and killing them instantly, Mireille's mind imagined both of them as Christine and she relished the idea of killing her in that manner.

"_I will kill Christine for you my Erik…She will die for making you cry, I swear it"_

Mireille's cloak flew gently in the air as she walked up to the two dead bodies and grabbed their hands, placing one on top of the other and stabbing them both with the dagger. The dagger gleamed in the dim light that came from the manor; Mireille swooshed her cape as she turned around and walked away, leaving no trace of her stay.

**Glossary**

**Rozen Maidens**: Rose Maidens

**Maison de Rendezvous**: A French phrase used to say brothel(or whorehouse)


	10. Exposé la Ange de Mort

Ch. 9 Exposé la Ange de Mort: Facing the Angel of Death "_His wings are gray and trailing, Azrael, Angel of Death, And yet the souls that Azrael brings Across the dark and cold, Look up beneath those folded wings, And find them lined with gold"_- Robert Gilbert Welsh

Two months passed since Mireille's first mission. Her days were very eventless, but her nights were full of danger, since in all those evenings, Noir had killed many. Her boss, Armand loved to see Noir's full capabilities. After the first month, Armand informed her that Noir's reputation had spread beyond France and she was becoming as notorious as Jack the Ripper from England.

Preparations had begun for Hannibal and the opera house was bustling with activity. Mireille stood in the shadows, observing the many preparations take place, contemptuously glancing at the dancers and opera singers as they scurried on the stage like rats. Mireille's gaze looked up as she saw one of the Opera House managers headed towards the stage accompanied by two men in their fifties.

One of the men was short and stocky. He had a high forehead, a sure sign of balding and badly combed silver and white hair, which reminded Mireille of Albert Einstein's hairstyle. A neat mustache that was curled at the tips adorned his upper lip and his vanity wafted through the room like cheap perfume. The other man had a thick mustache; his dark brown hair had white streaks across it, and was brushed back, his hair eerily alike to that of Elvis Presley.

Both men were dressed in eccentric suits decorated with fur and the both of them stared around the opera house with both wonder and bewilderment. The old opera manager yelled at everyone to remain silent, which for the most part they did, La Carlotta was standing near her maid and mumbling something to her.

La Carlotta was, for the most part the celebrity in the opera house. Her extremely high-pitched voice could break glass and make children two blocks away from the opera house cry. Her flamboyant red hair was always in tight curls. Her makeup was extravagant, as was her clothing. Mireille loather her, since all she knew how to do was complain about any little thing that irritated her.

Mireille tried to avoid her most of the time, since Carlotta would go into a rant about how much she disliked her.

Mireille looked up as a young slender man ran towards the manager and his guests. His long blonde hair hung just below his jawbone, framing his thin face. His blue eyes sparkled with youth and ignorance to the ways of the world. He was well dressed and looked like he belonged to the upper class.

The manager walked towards the man, smiling.

"Vicomte, welcome!" he exclaimed as he shook the young man's hand.

Mireille caught his words, her interest sparked.

_"Interesting…so he is the one that will take Christine away from Erik…"_ Mireille smirked to herself. _"If I knew that Christine deserved Erik I would move heaven and earth to get the idiotic Vicomte out of the way…but I won't…"_

"Gentlemen, gentlemen…"the manager had begun speaking. "Monsieur Reyer, Madame Giry, ladies and gentlemen, please if I can have your attention, thank you. As you know, for some weeks there have been rumors of my imminent retirement." He halted his speech for a moment, everyone's attention finally focused on him. "I can now tell you that these were all true, and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre."

Both eccentric men step forward, prideful grins upon their faces.

The manager continued speaking. " I'm sure you've read their recent fortune in the junk business"

"Scrap metal, actually" Monsieur Andre resentfully remarked.

The dancers all conversed between themselves about the new opera managers.

"He must be rich" one whispered to another fellow dancer.

"And we're deeply honored to introduce our new patron, the Vicomte de Chagny" the old manager announced.

Mireille hid in the shadows, hearing every single word, but ignoring Christine's rant about Raoul being her childhood friend to Meg. The Vicomte did a small speech before La Carlotta and Piangi were introduced to the new managers and new patron. The Vicomte then walked out of the opera house. The two new managers were given a tour of the stage area by the former manager and Madame Giry, as the dancers begun their routine.

" We take a particular pride in the excellence of our ballets, monsieur." Madame Giry stated.

"I see why, especially that little blonde angel" Andre quick wittedly remarked as his eyes looked at Meg's dancing figure.

"My daughter, Meg Giry" Madame Giry dryly stated.

"And that exceptional beauty, no relation I trust" Firmin replied as he looked at Christine's dancing form.

"Christine Daae, promising talent Monsieur Firmin, very promising." Madame Giry coldly replied as they made their way around the stage.

Soon after, La Carlotta begun to sing, when suddenly, one of the large canvases that served as the backdrop fell on Carlotta. All the people on the stage looked up, their eyes shining with fear.

"He's here…. The Phantom of the Opera" a dancer ushered under her breath.

Mireille looked up and then looked down to the scene of chaos that Carlotta was creating. Rolling her eyes with annoyance, Mireille walked back to her room, wanting to get away from those irritating people.

--------------------------------------

Mireille closed the door to her room, finding Erik sitting down on her bed. Mireille locked the door behind her and walked towards him, ripping the dress-skirt off, revealing her pants that snugly wrapped her legs.

"Finally, I'm out of that ridiculous outfit!" Mireille exclaimed, revealing her annoyance.

Erik weakly smiled at her exclamation, "I see you do not enjoy to wear proper female attire." he remarked.

Mireille sighed, and chuckled softly. "Yes…I don't…I have never been fond of women's clothing since it is rather…" Mireille's gaze traveled up and down Erik's body, seeing his well toned build. His image providing the kindling for a fire that begun to burn away at Mireille's thoughts and dreams, "Impractical with what I do." Mireille smiled weakly.

Mireille walked towards her bed and kneeled down, setting her head on his lap; much in the same way she did when she was small.

Erik's hand hesitantly begun caressing her hair, gaining more confidence after the first few strokes, as his eyes looked at her with respect and fondness.

" Can you join me for dinner today, my porcelain doll?" He whispered.

"Of course…. you won't mind if it is an early dinner, right?" Mireille asked him, her eyes closed as she enjoyed his touch.

"Of course I wouldn't mind…. I would do anything for my one true friend." He smiled weakly, never having done that in many years.

Mireille slowly stood up, holding her hand out towards Erik.

"Dinner awaits us Monsieur Phantom" Mireille smirked as she said that.

-----------------------------------------

During and after the simple dinner between Mireille and Erik, Mireille nodded in annoyance as Erik kept talking and worshipping Christine.

"And…she's such a fabulous singer…I taught her everything she knows, she's my beautiful Angel of Music" Erik exclaimed, as he was lost in a lovesick trance.

Mireille rolled her eyes at every remark, clenching her fists under the table, trying to contain her wrath.

_"How could he talk about her like THAT! He should know better than to do so…Can't he see that he will wind up hurting himself more?"_ Mireille angrily thought to herself.

After about a half an hour that Erik continued to talk nonstop about Christine, Mireille stood up, her eyes shining with annoyance.

"CAN'T you talk about anything else other than CHRISTINE!" Mireille yelled at him, her voice echoing throughout the lair.

Erik stopped his pacing up and down the lair and his face showing his dumbfounded expression.

"W…why are you acting like that porcelain doll, that's not like you at all…" Erik softly spoke.

"Well, it looks like YOU monsieur, don't know much about THIS porcelain doll!" Mireille points to herself with her right index finger, her anger making her body tremble and her fury making its way out. "You've been too damn busy trying to make the idiot of Christine fall for you, well let me give you a piece of advice. Your stupid plan is NOT going to work…she's going to leave you alone here to rot!" Mireille's eyes gleamed with her anger, her chest heaving up and down as she tried to catch her breath and regain her composure.

-------------------------------

Erik could only stare in shock and indignation as Mireille yelled at him. He tried to brush away her words about Christine leaving him, but a subconscious part of him listened to Mireille's words, knowing very well that could be highly likely if Christine saw his face…. his horrid and monstrous face.

--------------------------------

Mireille finally regained some of her composure after a long awkward silence filled the lair.

" You know what…." Mireille's eyes reverted back to their sad gaze and her voice lowered to an almost soundless whisper. " Forget it…. I should not have come here at all." Mireille ran down the passageway that led to her room, trying to put as much distance between her and Erik as she possibly could. Tears threatened to fall down her cheeks but she tried to contain them as best she could.

--------------------------------

Erik felt horrible for annoying his best friend with his babbling, as he walked down the passageway towards his porcelain doll when suddenly, he heard her sing. His angel of music was singing on the stage above, filling the air with a sweet melody. Erik smiled to himself.

_"At last…the time has come for me to reveal myself to her as her beautiful Angel of Music…"_

With his heart brimming with hope, he walked back to his lair, his mind rushing to plan how his first night with his angel of music would go.

---------------------------------

Mireille made her way into her room through the mirror passageway and shut it, her chest heaving up and down as she tried to catch her breath. She begun to hear much bustle and hustle outside her room. She peeked outside her room's door and saw a mob of people dressed very elegantly in front of Christine's room. Mireille shut the door and quickly put on another long dress-skirt under her corset, trying to make it look like a dress. She made her way to the mirror and made sure her now slightly curled hair was perfect. Mireille walked towards the door, her hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath she opened the door and walked out, her aura emanating arrogance, and mystery.

---------------------------------

Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin were trying to make their way inside Christine's room, the Vicomte walked towards them and they talked for a bit until they and some that were making up the mob saw the door adjacent to Christine's room open, revealing a gorgeous girl, her fair face was enhanced by her dark curls. Her violet eyes scanned the area as she walked into the crowd.

"Madame Giry, who is that girl?" Andre asked, his curiosity already burning at his thoughts.

"Yes…who is she?" Firmin added, his eyes still looking at her.

"That would be Adrienne Rose, but I would suggest you keep your distance from her." Madame Giry replied.

"Why is that?" Both Andre and Firmin blurted out.

"Because, Mademoiselle Rose is a protégé of Monsieur Armand de la Guerre." Madame Giry added to her previous remark.

Andre and Firmin looked at each other then back at Madame Giry.

"She's connected to THE Count Armand!" Andre whispered to Madame Giry, shock clearly expressed on his face.

Madame Giry simply nodded. "Yes…and I would suggest you abide by Monsieur de la Guerre's orders that he gave to the previous opera managers. One of the managers didn't wish to abide to his orders and he was killed by …Noir" Madame Giry whispered Noir's name with a menacing tone.

"Oh, yes, I heard about that horrid event. Didn't that happen about two months ago?" Firmin added.

"Yes monsieur, now please go away, Miss Daae is very tired and in need of rest." Madame Giry pleaded with the crowd.

---------------------------------------

As Mireille walked out, she noticed the gaze of the new opera managers.

_"Interesting…they look like they can be easily frightened…this will serve me well when the time comes."_ Mireille thought to herself

She made her way through the sea of people until someone pulled her into a shadowy corner.

"What the hell was that for!" Mireille angrily whispered to the person.

"Why my darling Adria…don't you recognize your boss?" Armand jokingly remarked.

"Oh Armand, it's just you" Mireille smiled as she saw a familiar face. "What brings you to the Opera house?"

"As you know…I didn't give you a mission but an urgent assignment has appeared. I would have ordered another Rozen Maiden agent to do it, but they are all in the middle of other missions. I need to ask you, Noir, to annihilate Alexandre Devereux. He is proving to be a threat for us that must be taken care of immediately."

"Of course…I will go to your house later on tonight. Do not fret Armand…Noir will handle this job as effectively as my first one."

"I will see you at my townhouse then. Until then au revoir mon Ange de Mort." Armand chuckled and walked out of the shadowy corner, blending in with the somewhat dying crowd.

Mireille stood in the shadows, her mind buzzing with thoughts of death and destruction. After a few minutes when everyone had cleared the area, she walked out of the shadowed area, back into her room to mentally prepare for her new assignment.

--------------------------------------

A few hours had passed and the clock struck 11 PM. Mireille sat on the floor of her room, meditating and trying to home in her auditory and visual skill in the darkened environment. She made out the faint sound of singing until it was getting stronger. Mireille got up and walked into the mirror passageway, only to be greeted by the sight of Erik holding Christine's hand and leading her down a dank corridor towards his lair, singing with her.

Mireille stayed close to the shadows and headed towards Erik's lair. Knowing all too well that was the place where he was taking Christine.

After she arrived, she hid in the shadows of the passageway, seeing Erik singing to Christine.

"_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation  
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses... _

_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor  
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender  
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,  
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light  
And listen to the music of the night _

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!  
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!  
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!  
And you'll live as you've never lived before... _

_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you  
Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,  
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight  
The darkness of the music of the night... _

_Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world!  
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!  
Let your soul take you where you long to be!  
Only then can you belong to me ... _

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!  
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!  
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in  
To the power of the music that I write  
The power of the music of the night..."_

Mireille saw Christine faint at the sight of a wax figure that looked exactly like her. Erik picked up her unconscious figure and carried her towards another room.

"_Just who the hell does she think she is? How dare she try to steal my Erik away from me! Oh god…I…I couldn't possibly be falling in love with him. I…It just isn't possible… I…he and I …it could never happen." _

Mireille begun to battle her true emotions once more, trying to suppress them just like she had suppressed all of the pain and sorrow that came from her family's assassination. Erik begun to sing softly from the other room, pulling Mireille out of her thoughts as she paid close attention to his voice.

"_You alone can make my song take flight  
Help me make the music of the night..." _

After that verse Erik walked out of the room, Mireille turned around and walked away towards her room. At first pain and sorrow ate away at her thoughts but were soon replaced by her iron will and determination to get her mission done.

---------------------------------------------

Erik walked out of the small room that housed the swan bed, where his Angel of Music now laid resting. He glanced up to see his friend, Mireille turn away from him an expression of sorrow on her face. Erik looked down to the floor and after a few moments of thought, he went after her. He needed to apologize to her about annoying her with his thoughts earlier.

---------------------------------------

Mireille took off her dress-skirt and grabbed her cloak, covering herself from head to toe with the black fabric. Taking out a few daggers, she walked out of her room, the cloak swishing behind her like a black trail.

-----------------------------------

Erik looked through the mirror passageway as his porcelain doll put on a dark colored cloak.

"_That's strange…She doesn't go out this late at night…"_ He thought to himself. After she closed the room's door, Erik walked out, his own cloak in his hand and determined to find out where his friend spent most of her evenings for the past few months.

--------------------------------------

Mireille made her way down the marble steps of the opera house, finding a man with a horse waiting for her.

The man stepped up and cleared his throat. "Miss Adria I presume."

Mireille nodded. "Yes, I'm her. What do you want?"

"Count De La Guerre sent me here to give you this" He pats the black horse.

"Thank you for waiting for me, monsieur." Mireille kindly replied.

"It is no problem. I will get going now, but here, he gave me a note for you. Good evening Mademoiselle." The man did a small bow and got on another horse, speeding off into the darkened street.

Mireille opened the note and read it in the dim light.

"_My dearest Adria, _

_A goddess of death such as you must have the means of transportation worthy of her. I have sent you the best black Arabian stallion that I own to you. She is now yours. You can name her whatever you wish. Good luck on this new mission and I hope you make death look as beautiful as always._

_With much love, Armand."_

Mireille had a weak smile upon her face after reading the note. _"A charmer even in writing…thank you Armand." _Mireille thought to herself.

"Well now…what should I call you" Mireille whispered as she petted the horse's head, trying to gain its trust. "How about Azrael…after the angel of death himself." The horse neighs in agreement and claps its hooves on the cobblestone street. "Hush…we don't wish to attract much attention Azrael…now let's go. We have a job to do." Mireille proclaimed as she got on the black horse and sped off towards Armand's townhouse.

-------------------------------------------

Erik looked on from the shadows as Mireille petted a black horse. He clenched his fists, as he knew all too well who was behind that gift to his friend.

"_That damned Armand…why does he shower my friend with gifts? Does he wish to marry her…Oh that could never be possible. I would not allow it." _Erik angrily thought to himself. He rushed to the stables and grabbed a random horse. The horse was brown with a black mane. Erik then sped off after Mireille, his curiosity now getting the best of him.

--------------------------------------------------------

Mireille rushed into the De La Guerre state, going with the horse around the back so no one would notice her, after she got into her costume, she walked the horse two streets after the De La Guerre state, not wishing to rouse anyone's suspicions. She got on the horse, her mask and cloak ready. She checked her weapons and daggers before riding off.

Mireille kissed the top of the horse's head. "Now Azrael…you really are a messenger of death" Mireille whispered. She kicked the horse gently and Azrael sped off down the isolated street, Mireille disappearing behind and letting Noir take control.

-----------------------------------------------------

Erik waited in the shadows for Mireille to come out. When suddenly he saw a sight that he would surely never forget. He saw her, he saw the legendary Noir ride past him. Her face as was most of her body clad in black, her haunting gaze looked beyond the darkness. She was truly one with the perpetual darkness that surrounded him. After she was a few meters in the distance, Erik decided to follow her, and see the legendary Noir in action.


	11. Une Danse de la Mort: A Dance of Death

**Ch. 10 Une Danse de la Mort: A Dance of Death**

"_Death is the mother of Beauty; hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires."_-Wallace Stevens, "Sunday Morning"(1923)

Mireille galloped towards the residence of Alexandre Devereux. The state was surrounded by many trees and heavily guarded. Mireille slowed down the dark horse and turned to her right, heading right into the darkened woods. She got off the horse and tied it, petting its head lightly.

"Do not worry…I'll be back" she softly whispered to the horse. " Don't make any noise, remain silent, please."

Mireille slowly made her way into the state, and looked around for any signs of an ambush. Seeing no one, she slipped inside the house.

* * *

Erik got off his horse and tied it to a tree a few meters away from where Noir had turned on the road. He then made his way to the large manor that beckoned to him against the dark landscape.

_"Just what the hell am I doing here? I should be in the Opera house with my Angel of Music…but her…Noir…she is calling to me…Her masked face is beautiful above all other things that dwell in the shadows…I must see her in action…I must"_

* * *

Mireille walked into the study to find Alexandre Devereux sitting on a comfortable lounge chair, reading a book.

He had his brown hair neatly combed back into a short ponytail, his green eyes looked up from what he was reading and he smiled at her. He had a velvet crimson robe on, a long ebony tie hung down his neck and its length ended at his lower torso. His sharp nose and chiseled face made him look attractive at his age.

"Ah, welcome oh infamous Noir! I have been longing to make your acquaintance…" He proclaims.

" I do not have time to speak with individuals such as yourself monsieur…I am here to do my job." Mireille glared at the man, her anger slowly beginning to boil over.

Alexandre chuckled. " I see… Armand has gotten fed up with me and has now put a price on my head. But…you shall have to get through my men in order to kill me." He smirks.

Mireille looks at him intently, when suddenly, from behind the bookshelves; men with swords all clad in black fencing outfits surround her. Mireille glanced at them as they all unsheathed their swords, her hands going behind her cape and grabbing three daggers.

Alexandre walked out to the nearby balcony, when one of the swordsmen takes the initiative and begins to slash towards Mireille. She gracefully dodged the blow and with one of the daggers in her hands, she slit his neck, blood splattering everywhere. All of the other men in black rushed at her as Alexandre walked out to the large balcony. Mireille slashed all of them in their necks, getting closer to the balcony. She swung her daggers around her fingers and threw them at two of the men, stabbing one in the chest and the other in the middle of his neck, blood pouring out of his mouth. Alexandre stood at the edge of the balcony, holding on gently to the metal railing, looking as Noir, easily wiped out his men. Mireille's hands took two swords from two of the dead guards and took on the rest of the men, her agile slashes killing them all instantly.

* * *

Erik looked on at the dim lit house, waiting to see Noir in action. His wish was soon granted as a man stepped out to the balcony. From one of the large windows he could clearly see inside as a mob of men clad in black swarmed and surrounded Noir. He held his breath, both in anticipation and in fear. Erik clenched his fists as he saw the men get closer to Noir, but unclenched them when Noir begun her relentless attack upon them. His eyes opened wide as he saw Noir move through the men easily, each of their bodies slumping to the floor.

"_Heavens…the way she kills is like a beautiful deadly dance" _Erik thought to himself in astonishment. His eyes were wide with both wonder and amazement.

* * *

Mireille spotted Alexandre's figure trying to step back, but he bumped into the railing of the balcony. Her dark eyes observed his tie, which was undone and was hanging loosely from his chest. She stepped back and sprinted towards him, jumping into the dark air, her body gracefully doing a back flip, as she fell towards the ground, she grabbed Alexandre's shoulders, pulling him back. Her lightning fast hands, grabbed the tie, which then became partially undone as she held on to it tightly. Mireille looked up to find Alexandre's lifeless body against the balcony railing, his neck arching back and holding her weight as she held on to his tie, which was still tied around the now broken neck.

Mireille was only about a few feet from the ground, and she let go, landing as best as she could onto terra firma. Her cloak whooshed around her softly, like the dark wings of an angel.

She got up and brushed the dirt off her outfit, when she turned around, she heard the distinct sounds of swords unsheathing. She looked up to find 5 men surrounding her. Mireille bit her lower lip flirtatiously and cocked her head to the side, a small smirk on her face.

"You are all dead…" Mireille whispered.

The men slashed at her, but she dodged them easily. She kicked one of them and took his sword, when another one of the men slashed her left arm, making a deep wound on it. She winced and gritted her teeth as she tried to control the throbbing pain from her arm. Her injury only served to infuriate her more, her anger about Christine and everything else finally reaching their limit. In her anger, Mireille swung the sword behind her and killed all of them, seeing them all as Christine and relishing the idea of killing her, along with those that had killed her family. The one that she had knocked down stayed on the ground, cowering in fear, his eyes wide as he sees Noir turn back to face him. The dim light of the moon making her face look more sinister.

"P…Please…do not harm me…." The man pleaded as his voice shook from his fear.

Mireille simply lightly chuckled at his plea. With her right hand, she took out one of her guns and shot him in the head, not even hesitating as he let out a blood-curling scream.

"How beautiful…. the suffering…at the moment of death" Mireille solemnly whispered to herself when she heard the rustling of leaves near some trees. Mireille grabbed one of her daggers and threw it in the direction of the noise, hearing someone grunt. She quickly and silently made her way into the shadowy forest surrounding the manor trying to find the intruder.

* * *

Erik could feel a rush of both fear and excitement coursing through his veins, as he saw Noir easily kill every man. His eyes became wide as he saw her pull out what looked to be a revolver and killing the man that had uselessly tried to beg for her mercy. He held his breath as he heard her whisper something to herself. He unwillingly stepped forward, making the dry leaves on the ground make a crunching sound as he brought his weight down upon them. He looked up and hoped that Noir had not noticed, but in a blink of an eye, he felt a sharp pain on his shoulder, making him crouch down and wince in pain. He opened his left eye to find that Noir was nowhere to be seen. His hands brushed off the foliage that had gotten on him as he crouched down, and he scanned the area before him, wondering where Noir could have gone.

Before his mind could think of anything else, he felt some force push him into the open, sending him falling onto the ground of the garden.

* * *

Mireille saw the shadowy figure wince in pain and she waited until he stood up. She pushed him out to the open, where the dim light of the moon illuminated the garden.

She took out a long stiletto and twirled it on her finger, pointing it at the individual, as she crouched down. Her eyes focused and she saw a white mask, shining with the eerie white glow of the moon that reflected on it.

* * *

Erik grunted as his body made hard contact with the ground. He looked up to see what had pushed him and was greeted by a dagger being held near his neck and a woman clad in black crouched down close enough that he could somewhat make out her eyes. Eyes that shined a violent amethyst color, and that glared angrily at him.

* * *

Mireille held her breath, remaining silent for a few seconds, trying to think of something, anything.

"_This is going all wrong…Erik's not supposed to be here!!! What if he saw me?? What if he knows!! FOCUS Mireille, FOCUS!!" _Mireille thought to herself, pointing the dagger closer to his neck.

"Who are you?!" Mireille demanded, her voice full of anger, the anger serving as a means to distort her voice enough so Erik wouldn't recognize her.

She saw him gulp and pointed her dagger even closer to his neck, the tip of the blade lightly grazing his skin.

"I…I was simply riding my horse when I stumbled upon you murdering all of those men. I must say that you make death look like a beautiful thing." Erik remarked, his voice full of awe and respect.

"I'm not in the mood for such ludicrous comments, now tell me, did someone pay you to follow me or better yet, attempt to kill me?"

"N… No, that is not it at all!"

"Well, if that is not your purpose, then why do you conceal your face?"

Erik hangs his head. "I… It is a way to save the world from the monstrosity of my horrid face…." He whispers.

"Let me see it…I promise I won't run away. Besides, I've seen plenty of horrible things in my profession, so I am not one to scare so easily."

Erik hesitates, debating whether or not to show his face to another living soul, but after much internal battling, he obliges to Noir's request.

Mireille felt her anger towards him melt away, and the empathy that she always felt for him took control.

* * *

Erik looked up to Noir, he felt naked, exposed as the cold breeze made contact with his disfigured flesh. He focused his eyesight on Noir, hardly making out her face, the darkness covering most of it like a dark veil.

"She most likely wishes to humiliate me and kill me…Heavens, allow me to live, I beg of you, I must see my Angel of Music and my friend Mireille at least for one last time."

He saw Noir's body move a bit, and he closed his eyes, bracing himself for whatever bloody fate he was about to endure. But all he heard was the sound of a dagger being put back in its sheath.

* * *

Mireille sheathed her dagger, not having the heart to hurt him more than she already did, as she remembered throwing a dagger towards him before.

"I've decided not to kill you…" Mireille solemnly declared, standing up and looking up at the moon.

* * *

Erik opened his eyes and slowly stood up, putting his mask back on slowly. He walked a few steps closer to Noir. His height helped him tower over her, but he knew too well that she was very agile and deadly. He looked down and saw a spot on her arm that was moistened by her own blood. He then reached out to try to mend Noir's wound.

* * *

Mireille gazed at the moon, thoughtlessly, trying to ease herself into a state of serenity. She felt someone touch the spot where she had been cut and she drew back, hissing in pain.

"Don't you touch me!!!" Mireille's menacing voice warned Erik as he drew back.

"You are wounded Mademoiselle…I simply wished to mend your wound." Erik coolly replied.

"Me being wounded is none of your concern… Be warned, the next time you attempt to follow me and try to "help" me I won't hesitate to kill you…Now until we meet again…Opera Ghost!"

Mireille drops a smoke bomb and rushes towards the woods. Her agile body dodging its way through the trees, she reached the spot where she had left Azrael and quickly untied her from the tree, galloping away from her as quickly as she could before Erik could catch up to her.

* * *

Erik coughed and coughed; he shut his eyes as he waited for the smoke to dissipate. Once he opened them, he looked all around him but found no trace of Noir. He stood in the garden, mesmerized by Noir's disappearance act. After a few moments, he slowly made his way back into the woods towards his horse, his thoughts revolving around his Angel of Music but mostly focusing on what he saw Noir do. 


	12. Ch11 Inexprimé Secrets:Unspoken Secrets

**Ch. 11 ****Inexprimé Secrets**** :Unspoken Secrets**

"_Love that we can not have is the one that lasts the longest, hurts the deepest and feels the strongest..."- unknown_

Mireille headed back to the opera house, her mind buzzing with thoughts of Erik and what she knew he had seen.

"He saw me kill…if he knew that it was me, he would probably think I was some sort of monster. I…I don't know what is wrong with me! Every time I take on the façade of Noir, I turn into someone completely different."

Mireille sighed and closed the door of her room behind her. She walked a few steps and fell backwards on her bed, letting out a frustrated groan, wincing soon after as the gash in her arm throbs with pain.

"Dammit…that bastard got me good…I will bathe…later…too tired"

Mireille slipped into a deep slumber, her arm still in pain, but too weak to bandage it.

**XXXXXX**

Erik furiously paced back from Christine's room after escorting her there.

"How dare she take off my mask?! She has signed her sentence…She will be with me for all eternity…and if anyone dares to object…I'll simply get them out of my way."

Erik walked past the hall that leads to Mireille's room. His feet halted a few feet past the hall; he turned around and walked towards it, curious to see if his friend had come back from her nighttime outing with Armand.

"Mireille…She couldn't possibly be thinking of having Armand as a suitor, could she?" He contemplated to himself as he reached the two-way mirror door that enabled him to observe his friend, just like his angel of music.

**XXXXXX**

Mireille slowly woke up from her short slumber. Her head buzzed with pain just as her arm stung a bit, from not cleaning her wound. Her lungs expanded as she breathed in deeply, and she tried to relax. Her legs moved to the side of the bed and she used her uninjured arm to help her as she sat up. She closed her eyes as she stood up and slowly opened them to find her way to the bathroom.

She lit most of the candles, which only provided a dim light source to illuminate the small room. A small toilet sat near one of the corners and a bathtub stood against the left wall, a mirror on the wall faced the area of the bathtub where one would lay their back on it for support. Next to the toilet, a small porcelain sink was there.

Mireille went up to the bathtub and turned one of the gilded faucets. Hot water came out of it, steam levitated up into the air, warming up the cool room. Her hand turned the other faucet, and the hot water cooled to a comfortable lukewarm temperature.

"Thank god they at least have some plumbing and water heating system, otherwise I would go insane." Mireille wearily thought to herself.

While the bathtub got full of water, Mireille got out some of her shampoo and other toiletries from her own time, along with some undergarments. Mireille walked back to the bathroom and closed the door.

**XXXXXX**

Erik watched as his friend made her way to the bathroom and back. His body then automatically walked towards the other two-way mirror that enabled him to observe what she did in the bathroom.

"I shouldn't be doing this…I…I can't…I must go and finish composing my opera…but…I can't…I must see Mireille…I must"

After a few seconds of bitterly battling with himself, he finds himself staring into the bathroom. Steam shrouded most of his view and he only saw Mireille as she put her things next to the bathtub.

**XXXXXX**

Mireille set her things down next to the bathtub. She stretched out her arms and then begun to take off her loose shirt, letting it fall gracefully on the cold floor. Her hands slowly brushed back her hair and she undid the buttons on her trousers, balancing on one foot, then the other in order to get them off. She managed to get her trousers off, and set them next to the shirt. Her hands travel towards her wounded arm, and she glimpses at it before taking off her undergarments.

**XXXXX **

Erik couldn't believe what he was doing. It was very unlike him to watch someone of the female gender undress. It was too much of an intimate moment for him to see. He did not even dare to do such an atrocious thing to his Angel of Music. But with Mireille he felt different. He felt aroused in ways that his angel of music did not. He glanced at Mireille as she observed her left arm, which caught his attention. He observed as she analyzed her arm and when he focused his sight upon it, he saw a long slash that lead from her upper shoulder to her upper elbow. His breathing got more ragged; his burning gaze stared towards his friend's arms. After a few moments, he walked away, his face blushing with both shame and embarrassment.

**XXXXXX**

Mireille slipped into the warm water, the steam rising up and nearly filling the small bathroom, making the room seem surreal. Her head moved to see her arm, as she looked once more upon her injury, some blood making a serpentine trail into the water. She breathed in deeply, trying to clear her thoughts. Mireille's thoughts drifted back to him, the only man she could trust besides Armand, her Erik.

Her right hand moved towards the wound, pouring some water on it. She moaned lightly, as she closed her eyes and imagined that the water going on her injured arm was Erik's hand. Mireille's face showed an expression of ecstasy as she continued to fantasize about being in Erik's arms. After a few minutes of enjoying her newfound pleasure, she forced her eyes open; the pleasure she felt before now gone, and replaced by her feelings of self-pity and vindictiveness.

**XXXXXX**

Three months passed, in which preparations for the new production of the opera "The Countess" were under full swing. Everyone was quite busy during this time, especially Mireille with her missions. Erik ever so often would follow her, but not as often as Mireille would have hoped. It did not matter to her, since her duty, as an assassin and her vengeance were above all else.

One night, Mireille rode to Armand's house, ready to confess to him her true identity and purpose for being there. The horse hooves clapped against the cobblestone roads of Paris. Her hair, now not as curled as it was when she arrived in that era, but now it was in soft waves, which flowed freely upon the wind. Azrael and her becoming one when they rode. After riding for a few blocks she reached his residence, the gatekeeper opening the gate for her.

Her mind made up, she wanted…. needed to confess to Armand her origins, he might possibly provide some sort of solution to her problem. She slowed Azrael's pace down to a soft gallop to the stables. Her body gracefully slipped off the horse, and made its way towards the inside of Armand's abode.

Her arms pulled the large doors open, closing them behind her. Just as she was walking inside, the figure of Armand; dressed in a robe of dark crimson, made his way down the stairs.

"Oh…. Hello my darling Adria!" Armand chuckled as he saw her.

Mireille smiled. "It is nice to see you too Armand." She responded.

"What is the meaning of this very surprising visit from you?"

"I…. I need to tell you something important" Mireille hesitated. "…And to ask for a favor"

"A favor? Well…" Armand smiled, " anything for you."

"Could we talk in a place that is more…private?" Mireille whispered.

"Why, of course!" Armand answered, "follow me."

Armand lead Mireille into his office, closing the door behind him and making sure that no one would hear them.

"Alright Adria, now tell me what you wish to speak to me about" He winked as he saw her get closer to him.

"Well…" Mireille began, " I need to tell you that I am not from this time…I…I am from the year 2006"

Armand nodded and did not look surprised. Armand smiled.

"I know that darling. I am not here by accident you know…. I am an agent that was sent to assist you in your quest for self-discovery. So, do not worry…I do not wish to reveal your secret to anyone…but what is this…favor you want from me?"

"Well…. I wish for you to pretend that we are…a couple…"

"A couple?! Why my little Mireille…." He chuckles, "I never thought you felt about me that way."

" Wait…how…did you?"

"Know your name?" He cocks his eyes towards Mireille. "I have my methods of finding out."

Mireille sighs, "Well, I need you to do this for me…. it's a way to…. dissuade a close relation of mine to not head down a path of destruction."

"I see," Armand's voice is lowered, "I am perfectly willing to assist you. But, alas…it is getting quite late and I believe that the Opera Populaire is premiering the opera of 'The Countess' this evening, and I have been invited for the opening gala."

"I understand…. thank you Armand…you are the only friend I could ever count on."

"Oh." he laughed, "That is one of the most sincerest sentiments I have ever heard from anyone."

Mireille and Armand smiled at each other before saying farewell, respectively.

XXXXXX 

The opening gala for the new opera production of 'The Countess' was underway. The managers decided to cast La Carlotta as the title role of the Countess and Christine Daae as the Pageboy, going against the orders of the Opera Ghost. Mireille arrived at the Opera house just as the opera had begun. She stuck to the shadows of the backstage, making her way through some of the secret paths Erik had shown her. She looked down upon the singers and dancers, easily spotting La Carlotta and Christine onstage. Mireille looked to her side and saw Erik. Her eyes opened wide and she knew what events would unfold in front of her.

Erik stood above the audience and the performers, like a god inspecting his greatest creation.

"Did I NOT instruct that box five was to be kept EMPTY?!" his loud, sinister voice bellowed to the crowd below.

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks and whispered to each other as they all stared above in both fear and awe. Mireille looked to her right and hid, just as Bouquet ran by, in his pursuit of Erik. She stepped out of hiding seeing Bouquet continuing on his fruitless pursuit of Erik. A small smile spread across Mireille's face.

" Erik's going to kill him…this is going to be quite interesting…." Mireille giggled to herself as she made her way towards both Erik and his prey. She stood on a platform and saw what would be Buquet's last moments alive.

Erik toyed with Bouquet, as Bouquet desperately tried to get on another platform. Erik lunged at him, and his prey's eyes begged for mercy. Erik's eyes scanned the area and he spotted some rope. A sinister grin spread across his usually cool features and his hands grabbed the rope. Bouquet looked at him, somehow realizing that there was no escape for him. Erik wrapped the rope around his grimy neck, as Bouquet struggled to breathe. Finally, after tormenting Bouquet, Erik pushed his body down, the rope holding him up and snapping his neck. Mireille's eyes shined with both fascination and desire for him.

Down below, the screams of the audience echoed throughout the opera house. Erik left to see where Christine was going, while Mireille went to dress herself as Noir. The night would be when many things would reveal themselves to those involved.


	13. Ch 12 Trouvaille: Discovery

**Ch. 12 Trouvaille: Discovery**

"_The essence of living is discovering. Indeed, it is the joy of discovery that makes life worth the effort." _– Vijay Krishna

Mireille rushed into her room, her mind racing on the events that were about to unfold.

" _Dammit…Erik's going to find out about Christine and Raoul…This is the perfect time for me to begin my plan to destroy her…"_ Mireille maliciously thought to herself as she donned the guise of Noir.

She then put on a new mask that Armand had given to her. The mask was made of deep black lace, with beautiful dark rose patterns that stood out on her fair skin. Her hand brushed back the long waves of hair, and she looked at her somewhat new image on the mirror. Her eyes glimmered with hope and full devotion to her cause. It was time to execute her plan.

X X X 

Erik followed Christine and Raoul to the rooftop of the Opera House. The snow covered rooftop offered no protection against the freezing air of near winter. Anger coursed through his veins like burning magma courses within the earth. He loathed the fact that his angel was being stolen away by a fop. He made sure to stay in the shadows, hiding behind large statues that adorned the rooftop, keeping a close eye upon his Angel of Music.

"_How could she do this to ME!? I gave her everything!"_ He angrily thought to himself.

He listened on to their conversation, their voices traveling though the soft breeze.

XXX 

Raul softly begun to speak, "No more talk of darkness, Forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, nothing can harm you - my words will warm and calm you."

He stares lovingly into Christine's eyes, smiling at her " Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears. I'm here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you."

His hands held her hands gently. Christine responds, staring back into his eyes, "Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime . . .Say you need me with you, now and always . . . promise me that all you say is true - that's all I ask of you . . ." A smile forms across her face, as if her shackles have been lifted momentarily.

"Let me be your shelter, let me be your light. You're safe: No-one will find you . . . your fears are far behind you . . ."

"All I want is freedom, a world with no more night . . .and you always beside me to hold me and to hide me . . ."

Raoul takes Christine and leads her to another area of the rooftop, the snow softly beginning to fall. They both near the edge of the rooftop, and he wraps his arms around her, as if to protect her from the cold.

"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime . . . let me lead you from your solitude . . . Say you need me with you here, beside you . . . anywhere you go, let me go too - Christine, that's all I ask  
of you . . ."

XXX 

Erik felt as if they were ripping his heart and soul out of his body. Pain, hate, self-loathing swirled around him like a dark aura. Tears threatened to fall down his cheeks, as he struggled to keep a check in his emotions and not give away his location. Erik looked away for a few moments, hoping that everything he was witnessing was all part of some nightmare concocted by his self-doubt. He shut his eyes, and opened them once more and looked to the area, which he was previously observing, finding the same scene in front of him.

XXX 

Christine looks back at Raoul, "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime . . . say the word and I will follow you . . ."

Both Christine and Raoul both said together, "Share each day with me, each night, each morning . . ."

Raoul halted to let Christine have her say, "Say you love me . . ."

"You know I do . . ." Raoul responded.The both of them begun to say to each other once more, "Love me - that's all I ask of you."

They both look into each other's eyes and softly kiss.

"Anywhere you go let me go too . . . Love me - that's all I ask of you"

XXX 

Erik looked on at the young couple, his eyes full of burning hate. He remained silent as they left the rooftop. He slipped out of the shadows once he made sure that no one was there. His eyes scanned the snow-covered ground and he found the rose he had given her as a gift. He bent down and picked it up, gripping it tightly within his fists, tears falling down his eyes. His emotions violently shaking his body, as he silently sobbed to himself.

"I gave you my music . . . made your song take wing . . . and now, how you've repaid me: denied me and betrayed me . . . He was bound to love you when he heard you sing . . ."

He began to sob out her name, "Christine…Christine…."

XXX 

Mireille looked on as everything unfolded. She clenched her fist, trying to keep herself from killing both Christine and Raoul at that very moment. When both of them left, her heart shattered to a million pieces. She controlled her tears and looked down upon Erik's sobbing figure that was her cue to reveal herself to her Erik once more.

XXX 

Erik crushed the rose within his strong grip, his sorrow turned to a fiery fury.

" You will curse the day you did not do…all that the Phantom asked of you!!!!!!!" he angrily shouted to the heavens above.

He then heard soft footsteps coming from behind him. He turned around to be greeted by the Angel of Death herself, Noir.

XXX 

Erik walked up to Noir and looked into her gleaming eyes, "What do you want?" he asked.

Mireille, as Noir slowly walked towards him, swaying her hips gracefully, making herself look like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on killing Bouquet…I found the expectable quite amusing." She remarked, her voice showing her admiration and respect for him.

"I do not need your praise…His death was necessary for the sake of my…"

"Survival?" Noir cut him off, mid sentence.

Erik nodded, "Yes…" he merely whispered.

"Do not worry…He was an object that needed to be eliminated. I doubt if anyone is going to care about his death."

XXX 

Erik was surprised by how cold and indifferent she sounded when she spoke of death. He marveled the fact of how Noir, this mysterious woman, somehow seemed familiar. His Christine and his Mireille were polar opposites, but when he compared his Mireille and Noir, almost seemed like an identical person.

"No…I must be imagining things, Mireille could not be Noir…Besides I must worry exclusively about my Angel of Music."

XXX 

Erik glared at Noir. "Leave me be, I wish to be alone…" he earnestly responded.

"Do you wish to be alone because of the little show that ridiculous excuse for a woman and that man had?"

His eyes shot wide open with both shock and indignation. "How could you have?" his voice trailed off.

"I saw everything." Noir solemnly responded. "I can help you make your pain disappear…"

"Oh, and how do you plan to do that, Mademoiselle Noir?" Erik sardonically responded.

" Simple…by annihilating those that cause your suffering."

"You would not be thinking of…" his voice trails off.

"Yes…. Christine and Raoul must die."

"NO! I would never allow that!" he responded with outrage.

"What is more important to you, your Angel of Music or…. your Porcelain Doll…" Noir insinuated as she played with a strand of her dark locks.

XXX 

After he heard Noir's question, he stopped and pondered it.

"_Who do I care about more? I…I don't know…who does my heart desire?"_

XXX 

"I…I don't know…" Erik responded, his voice barely audible.

"Well then, you must choose …" Mireille stepped forward and caressed his face, getting close enough to kiss him. " I do not wish to kill you…." She pressed herself closer to his body. " I like you more than you think…"

Erik gulped, as he felt more and more physically attracted to the assassin. Mireille pulled away and started walking to the edge of the rooftop.

"Oh, by the way…I suggest you keep a close watch on Armand, Mireille's patron…. He wants her, and who knows…. you might have your Angel of Music…but at the price of your Porcelain Doll" Mireille giggled and jumped off the edge.

XXX 

Erik rushed to the edge of the rooftop, after watching Noir jump off. He was afraid that she was dead down below. He was perplexed by what he saw; Noir was flying in the air, slowly landing on the ground below and becoming one with the shadows. Her words echoed in his mind.

_" You must choose…between your Angel of Music or your Porcelain Doll…"_

XXX

Mireille rushed back inside the opera house as discreetly as she could. Once she was in her room, she easily removed the garb of Noir and put on her normal outfit of a peasant shirt under a decorated corset, with tight black trousers and boots. She ran to the rooftop to find Erik still there, sitting down upon the snow in a very desolated state. She made her way toward him, finally able to somewhat express her emotions.

"E…Erik?" she whispered, "Erik, what is the matter?"

Erik looked up to find himself gazing into Mireille's eyes, seeing her concern for him.

"N… Nothing…I was merely gazing at the night sky." Erik answered, his sadness clearly audible in his voice.

"Do not tell me that…" she fell on her knees and hugs him from behind. "I know that something is wrong Erik…Does it have to do with Christine?" she whispered in his ear.

He suddenly pushed Mireille away, his anger finally taking control.

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW!!?? YOU ALWAYS ASSUME THAT MY PROBLEMS DEAL WITH CHRISTINE!!!!" wrathfully yelled at Mireille.

All Mireille could do was stand up, tears welling up in her eyes, but she fought the urge to cry at that very moment.

"Is that what you think?" Mireille weakly smiled. "Then, I don't see why I should concern myself about you then. I might as well accept Armand's proposal of living in his manor…"

She turned around and walked away, leaving Erik fuming in his frustration.

XXX 

He didn't realize what he had done until he had heard Mireille's reply.

"Is that what you think?" Mireille weakly smiled. "Then, I don't see why I should concern myself about you then. I might as well accept Armand's proposal of living in his manor…"

He wanted to apologize for his behavior, to beg for forgiveness from his one, true friend, but he found himself to be without the words to say so. He merely looked on as Mireille walked away, the dangerously seductive voice of Noir echoing in his mind.

_" You must choose…between your Angel of Music or your Porcelain Doll…"_


	14. Ch 13 Inexprimé Règles: Unspoken Rules

**Ch. 13 Inexprimé Règles: Unspoken Rules**

"_The feller that calls you 'brother' generally wants something that don't belong to him"-_ Kin Hubbarb

Bastian walked down to the library of his home once more. His trusted confidant and servant, Duarte. Both of them stared solemnly at the large wooden door in hopes that their dear Mireille might be finished with her quest.

Duarte cleared his throat, and his eyes looked at his master. " Bastian…how is Mireille going to know how to act in such a time?"

"Do not worry…" Bastian soberly stated, "she has a guide that will assist her in her path." Bastian breathed in deeply, both worry and a sense of tradition battling to control his emotions.

"Just who is that guide?"

Bastian smiled, "When our family gained the power and prestige it has, one of the families that branched out from this one took it upon themselves to send their children into every single book in the library, once they reached a certain age…"

Duarte nodded, "You mean the De La Guerre's? But I thought they were all killed off just around the same time that Lord Albert and Lady Ariadne were…."

"Yes…. but before the De La Guerre were executed I managed to save one of them…a boy."

"So, is he the one guarding Lady Mireille?"

"Yes, the one guarding Mireille is their best guide and a very respectable man, if I do say so. Remember the boy that used to be Mireille's companion when she was young?"

"Ah, yes…. He was Armand wasn't he? But what does he have to do with anything? He disappeared soon after the incident involving her parents."

"Well, he and Mireille grew to be the best of friends, but he understood the fact that once he turned 13, he had to go inside the book that Mireille was destined to go in…"

"The book…. I just do not want Lady Mireille to be hurt anymore than she has…"

"Yes… Her personality is very destructive. You know perfectly well that I taught her to be cold and indifferent but it is very difficult for someone who saw what she did …"

"I know…. I just hope Lady Mireille does not make any miscalculated strategies."

"Duarte…. I wish to be left alone for a few minutes…." Bastian quietly announced.

"As you wish, Bastian…." Duarte walked away, ready to run a few errands in the city.

**XXXX**

A man stood in the shadows, observing the Deessé manor from afar. His icy gaze surveying any movements in and out of the state. He spots Bastian's right hand man, Duarte, driving off into the city. An evil cold smile spreads across his face.

"_It is time for me to see you again…Bastian…my brother… It is about time I finished what I started long ago.." _He laughs evilly under his breath.

As Duarte drove away from the state, a man all clad in black sneaked into the manor. His back was emblazoned with a symbol of a red dragon with its tail coiled around his neck; on the dragon's wings, a black cross is upon them, like a branded symbol.

**XXXX**

Bastian sat at his study, looking out the large window. His tired eyes were red from the tears he continued to shed for his niece and younger brother. He clenched his fists in anger and beat the arm rests of his large chair, venting his frustration. Whenever Duarte was around he could not express his emotions completely, the strict formalities always impeding him from doing so. After completely venting, he breathed heavily, trying to calm himself down. He, and the rest of the large manor, remained relatively silent until he heard a chuckle from behind.

"It is good to see you once again…dearest Bastian…." Bastian's eyes opened wide in shock. He gulped and turned around, his face now stoic, in order to hide his vulnerability.

"It is nice to see you too… Bastin…you traitor…" Bastian responded, venom dripping from his words.

**XXX**

The man in black slipped into the study of his brother. He could see the figure of Bastian sitting on the large chair, with his back facing him.

"_I could easily kill him here and now…but I prefer to make him suffer…just like the rest of my goddamned family made me suffer by not letting me be the guardian of those books…" _he angrily thought to himself.

He walked closer to the desk and his brother. He halted his body a few feet from his brother.

"It is good to see you once again…dearest Bastian…." He stated. His contempt clearly seen in his eyes and heard in his way of speaking.

** XXX**

Bastian could only look with hatred at his younger twin brother. They had been born together and learned the same things, but he always knew that his brother was full of malice. His brother was darkness, while he tried to be the light of the family.

"How dare you show your face here? Especially after what you did you Albert and his wife!!!"

"A wife that was meant to be mine!" Bastin's eyes glimmered with greed and hate. " You know perfectly well that I was the one that was meant to be the guardian, until our younger brother Albert was born!"

"Yes…but you must have accepted that. You still had a place of power in our family. But that wasn't enough…you always desired what was Albert's, no matter how many times I tried to keep you at bay, you succeeded. You left my poor niece in a miserable state that pains me to see every time I stare into her eyes."

"Oh…my niece…" he chuckles "She inherited the beauty of her mother…"

"But she also inherited the noble heart of her father…. do not forget that…"

"I enjoyed hearing their screams…that is one of the reasons why I joined the _Enfant_… They promised me the power that I desired…. and I finally have most of it…except for one…"

"The books…." Bastian whispered.

"Yes…the books…that is why I killed off the De La Guerre's. …They would have simply gotten in my path…but alas, in order to succeed you have to step or destroy people along the way.." Bastin let out an evil laugh that echoed throughout the study. Bastian remained silent, letting his brother's words fade in the air.

"What do you plan to do?"

Bastin stopped laughing, and looked in scorn at his brother. " Well, I plan to wait until my lovely niece comes back from her quest…if she is that lucky…" He smirked.

"You arranged for her to go into the _Phantom of the Opera _didn't you?" Bastian's voice nearly shook with his anger.

"What if I did?" Bastin looked at his brother, his gaze full of indifference.

"How dare you?! I swear…in the name of the Deessé family and in the name of Albert and Ariadne…I will not allow it…" Bastian threatened.

"Do as you like…but you will not stop me from persuading my lovely niece to join the _Soldats_ unit of _Enfant_. She would be a perfect asset to continue on our goal of global conquest." Bastin turned his back to his eldest twin and walked away, leaving Bastian looking at the blood red symbol for _Enfant_.

Bastian's mind rushed to assess all of the information. "_If Bastin manages to gain Mireille for Enfant…that would mean the end of the Deessé Family…and more sorrow for her. But thankfully Armand will be there to protect and guide her if I am no longer in the world of the living…" _

_Enfant: _A secret organization whose sole purpose is to rule the world. It is said that they have some members who are descendants of the Illuminati.

_Soldats:_ An arm of _Enfant._ Their purpose is to annihilate any obstacles that stand between the organization and the goal of global domination.


	15. Ch 14 Masquerade

**Ch. 14 Masquerade**

"_Everyone wears a mask… But that mask will eventually fall and all the sorrows underneath it shall be released upon the world…"_ Anonymous

A few weeks after the rooftop confrontation Noir had with Erik, Mireille begun to pack her belongings with a heavy heart; each passing day in the opera house was driving her insane. She closed up her bags and looked into the large mirror, not recognizing herself any longer. Her hair, once in glorious curls was slightly wavy now, hanging down her back. She carefully zipped up the bag that contained her most precious belongings. Her eyes strained as she tried to not shed any tears. This was to be her last night in the opera house.

"_This hurts me so much…why is the pain coming back? Why?!" _ Mireille furiously asked herself as she sat on the edge of her bed.

The pain summoned the memories of her past, the past that continued to haunt her, occasionally in her dreams. She shut her eyes and fell back on the bed. Pulling her body more into the bed, she clutched the covers tightly, just as her weariness overwhelmed her.

**XXXXXX **

Erik walked along the dark pathways of the opera house. His mood would have been more happy if it wasn't for the fact that some fop was planning on snatching away his Angel of Music and his best friend was about to leave him as well. He could not think about anything else but Noir's haunting words.

"_What do you mean Noir?" he yelled._

_Noir smiled and looked at him. "What I'm trying to say is that soon you will have to choose between your Angel of Music or your Porcelain doll."_

Erik shook his head furiously, trying to somehow get rid of Noir's voice that echoed in his every thought. He walked down another hall, towards the dormitories of his two beauties. As he passed the room where his Angel of Music slept, he heard the usual silence. He continued with his stroll, stopping in mid step, as he got closer to his Doll's room. Muffled talking and screaming came from her direction. He stood still for a few moments, debating whether or not to continue on his way or investigate what the commotion was all about. Suddenly, everything went dead silent. He glanced around the darkened landscape hoping that was the end of it. Just as suddenly as the voice grew silent, a bloodcurdling scream broke through the silence. Erik's legs moved towards the scream as quickly as they possibly could. He pushed the heavy mirror door leading to Mireille's room, and looked about only to find Mireille writhing in bed; Cold sweat covered her body, as she whimpered and quietly spoke in her dreams.

**XXXXX **

Mireille tossed and turned on her bed, fear made her body tremble and tears ran down her cheeks.

_Mireille ran down the large staircases of her home, tears streaming down her eyes as she looked for her mother. Her dress made it even more difficult to run down the stairs, as she nearly tripped more than once. Mireille's mother rushed up to her once she reached the bottom of the trail of stairs._

_"Momma! Momma!!!" Mireille yelled out. Her angelic voice echoed through the large house._

_"Mireille…darling, please…come with me, hurry," Her mother's desperate voice whispered._

_Mireille's eyes looked up to her mother. Her mother's hair was in disarray and her eyes were bloodshot and wide, like a frightened animal's. Her dress was covered with a red liquid that reminded her of blood. She and her mother rushed into the library, and her mother opened a secret door._

_"Mireille get in here, and do not come out no matter what happens. Stay very quiet darling. Please…remember that I love you." Mireille's mother, Ariadne told her with sorrow and regret._

_Mireille nodded as tears welled up in her eyes. Ariadne kissed her cheek and closed the door, locking it. The light streamed through a small crack between the door and the doorframe next to it. Everything was dead silent as Mireille clutched her stuffed bear in her arms. Gunshots and screams filled the air as the darkened messengers of death made their way through the house. Ariadne screamed as a dark figure made its way inside the room._

_"Ariadne…It is so good to see you once more…" The figure smugly remarked._

_"Why…why are you doing this? Me and Albert have done you no harm!" Ariadne retorted._

_"You were supposed to be my WIFE!" he yelled._

_"No…" she whispered. " I would have still loved Albert with all my heart. It wouldn't have mattered if you had gone into my world, you should realize that."_

_"NEVER!" he screamed as he slapped Ariadne, sending her flying to the ground._

_Mireille covered her mouth with her small hands, trying to keep quiet as she saw everything through the small crack. Her eyes remained wide expressing her shock and fear, the fear that engulfed her body like a wave of ice-cold water._

_"Now tell me…" he kneeled down and caressed Ariadne's cheek, "Where is that lovely little niece of mine?"_

_"I will not tell you where she is! Your filthy hands will not touch her!"_

_He chuckled, "Then…this is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you…"_

_He took out his gun and stood up, pointing it towards Ariadne's skull, his back facing the area where Mireille was hiding. Her heart beat against her chest loudly, and she feared that the sound of it would give away her hiding spot. Mireille could only see the dark figure and the crimson liquid that splattered all around as he let out eight gunshots. Her eyes could only see the symbol on his back. The crimson red dragon with its tail coiled around his neck; on the dragon's wings, a black cross is upon them, like a branded symbol. He looked about for any sign of Mireille._

_"Dammit…Bastian must have gotten her out…No matter…" He turned around and walked out of the room, brooding about his failure._

_Mireille stood still, for what seemed like an eternity. Her legs were starting to be strained and the soreness spread from her legs up to her waist, but she still stood in place, until she heard no other sounds coming from anywhere. She pushed the door open, her eyes darting around the room, her stuffed bear being dragged along by her right hand. Her eyes looked about the area quickly, until they focused on the lifeless body of her mother lying in a pool of dark crimson liquid. She kneeled down and shook her mother's body._

_"Momma…Momma…wake up! MOMMA!!!!!" Mireille's sorrowful scream filled the house. She didn't know what to do, all she could think about is the cold feeling of her mother's flesh as she touched her._

_Mireille walked about the house with a blank stare, her face showing only sorrow and the innocence that was held in them was slowly dissipating into anger. Her bear and her dress were stained with the darkened blood of her mother and her disconsolate tears. She made her way through the house, whispering to herself._

_"Momma…momma…"_

_Mireille slowly made her way towards her father's office, hoping and praying that he was alive. She entered only to find his body impaled on one of his decorative spears. Mireille couldn't take anymore; she fell on her knees and screamed at the same time as her hot, mournful tears ran down her cheeks like heaven's rain. Her heart felt like it was about to burst from all the pain she felt, she wished she had died along with her parents, that way her feelings of loneliness and isolation that started to take hold would disappear._

**XXXXXX**

Erik couldn't take it any longer. He pulled Mireille into his arms, caressing her hair and trying to wake her up from her nightmare. His sorrowful eyes expressed pure sympathy for her.

"It is alright my doll…I am here with you…nothing is going to happen to you…" He whispered.

He noticed that as soon as he started to hold her in his arms her body calmed down, and before he knew it, she was sleeping peacefully.

"My doll…" he whispered, as he stared lovingly down to her. " What did they do to you?"

**XXXXX **

Mireille jolted as she woke up. She looked about to see if anyone was there but found herself covered with the all familiar cold sweat from her nightmares.

_"That man…the man responsible for all the suffering I have gone through. He must pay! He will pay for everything he's done… Just like Christine Daae will…"_

She fell back on the bed, her eyes slowly closing as she slowly fell back to a now dreamless sleep. Her heartbeat now was at its normal pace, but she couldn't shake the feeling of someone or something watching her.

"Tomorrow…" she whispered. "I will say goodbye to this place of sorrow…"

**XXXXXX **

Erik glanced through the mirror at Mireille. His heart was heavy with regret and torn with conflicting emotions that threatened his sanity as well as his reasoning. His eyes glanced up as Mireille awoke from her nightmare. Her eyes met his for a brief second, but how he loved to see his reflection from those gemstone eyes of hers.

"Tomorrow…"Mireille whispered. "I will say goodbye to this place of sorrow…"

Erik shut his eyes, hearing those words from her lips.

_"It is all my fault… I have pushed her away to that…pompous bastard…Armand…"_

**XXXXXX **

Just as Mireille swore, she left the Opera Populaire. Armand arrived to pick her up, a broad smile across his face as he got one step closer to hopefully marrying her. He helped her with her bags, until everything she owned was in the carriage. Erik could only look from the shadows as his friend left his side. Mireille looked back towards the opera house, a melancholic look upon her face.

**XXXXXX **

Time passed and before everyone knew it, New Year's Eve came. The Opera Populaire sent out invitations to the elite of Parisian society for their annual masquerade ball. A messenger went to all the houses of the elite to ensure the safe arrival of the invitations. Five days before the Masquerade ball, a messenger arrived to the De La Guerre residence with an invitation. Mireille and Armand were fencing in the backyard. Their swords clashed together violently, both of them standing their ground. Mireille and Armand smiled as they continued with their friendly duel, when a servant scurried towards them.

"Lord Armand…a letter has arrived for you!" the servant announced.

Armand looked at the servant and nodded, letting his guard down. Mireille took the chance to strike at him, sending his sword flying off, pushing him on the ground. The razor sharp tip of her sword nearly made contact with Armand's neck.

"I win this round, Armand." Mireille said as she smiled.

Armand chuckled. "I guess you do gorgeous…"

She put the sword back in its sheath, as Armand stood up.

"Give me the letter, please." Armand gave the servant his charming smile.

"Here milord" The servant handed it to him, bowing then going back into the house.

Armand opened the letter, and saw a beautiful invitation with gilded decorations.

"Mireille…there is going to be a masquerade ball at the Opera Populaire…"

Mireille looked away, a sense of dread befalling her.

"Oh, really?" she innocently replied as she looked at Armand.

"Would you like to go with me?"

"I…." Mireille hesitated. "I do wish to go with you."

"Then it's settled. We will attend the Masquerade ball."

Armand stepped closer to Mireille, his face inching closer to hers.

"I just hope that this will give us the opportunity to become something more than friends," he whispered. "Since you're the only woman that has captivated me so…"

"I can't guarantee anything Armand…but I am willing to give you an opportunity…" she solemnly responded.

Armand smiled and kissed her on the cheek, his heart filling up with hope.

_"She is the only woman worthy of my love"_ he thought to himself as he walked back into the Manor.

**XXXXXX **

Mireille sighed and kicked the air in frustration. She was frustrated with herself and the situation she was in.

_"Dammit…I shouldn't have said that to him. I shouldn't have given him a false hope! I could never love him! I…I love someone else…I love…Erik…my Erik…"_

Mireille slowly kneeled down on the soft green grass, her right hand going over the area where her heart was, the other keeping her balanced.

_"I do love him…"_ her body trembled as her realization nearly overwhelmed her. _"But my love for him is not meant to be…He loves her…that stupid naïve bitch…I need to make him see reason…I must!"_

**XXXXXX **

The five days leading up to the Masquerade passed as quickly as seconds. Mireille knew perfectly well what was going to happen in that place; Erik, her Erik would appear as the Red Death. As she was choosing her costume, she decided to be dressed in the same color as him. She didn't care if she stood out, but that would make her connect with him if at least for a few moments.

**XXXXX **

The opera house was bustling with activity as the guests to the New Year's Eve Masquerade arrived. The sky exploded with the sounds of the fireworks as they crackled and boomed to create a gorgeous and very colorful visual spectacle. Carriages clicked and tapped about the cobblestone street as the guests neared their destination. Mireille and Armand sat side by side as their carriage pulled up to the Opera house. Mireille looked outside the small carriage window, seeing all the elite of Paris dressed up and smiling.

"Do not worry darling…everything will be fine…" Armand stated, as their carriage pulled to a stop. He then stepped out of it in order to assist Mireille.

"I know Armand…I know…." Mireille whispered to herself. She took a deep breath as she stepped out of the carriage, Armand holding her hand lovingly.

Armand and Mireille stepped inside the opera house; everyone was wearing white, gold and black. Everyone turned as both her and Armand stepped into the large ballroom-like lobby of the Opera house. Murmurs filled the air as they all commented about her relationship with Armand for a few seconds before going back to their own affairs.

"Would you like to dance darling?" Armand asked, with his trademark debonair smile.

Mireille looked around and spotted Christine and Raoul near one of the arches leading to the chorus girls' dormitories. She turned back to face Armand, ready to ignore them.

"Why… Of course my dearest Lord Armand." she replied as a small smile spread across her face.

He took her hand into his and wrapped his other hand around her waist, pulling her to a very close proximity of him. They twirled and swayed about the ballroom, everyone else doing the same around them. In the background the faint sound of singing is heard.

_Masquerade!  
Paper faces on parade . . .  
Masquerade!  
Hide your face,  
so the world will  
never find you!_

_Masquerade!  
Every face a different shade . . .  
Masquerade!  
Look around -  
there's another  
mask behind you!_

_Flash of mauve . . .  
Splash of puce . . .  
Fool and king . . .  
Ghoul and goose . . .  
Green and black . . ._  
_Queen and priest . . .  
Trace of rouge . . .  
Face of beast . . ._

_Faces . . .  
Take your turn, take a ride  
on the merry-go-round . . .  
in an inhuman race . . ._

_Eye of gold . . .  
Thigh of blue . . .  
True is false . . .  
Who is who . . .?  
Curl of lip . . .  
Swirl of gown . . .  
Ace of hearts . . .  
Face of clown . . ._

_Faces . . .  
Drink it in, drink it up,  
till you've drowned  
in the light . . .  
in the sound . . ._

As the music grew more frenzied so did the dancers. Armand dipped Mireille in front of a mirror and they both looked at their reflection.

"Don't we make a lovely couple?" Armand seductively asked Mireille.

He pulled Mireille up, very close to him. He pulled off her mask and his own, throwing them on a nearby table.

"I have loved you since we first met Mireille…" he whispered.

"What do you mean Armand? We've just met in this world…." She responded.

" That would be incorrect…. we met long ago…before your parents were murdered…"

Mireille's eyes grew wide, as she slowly began to remember a boy who was her companion for a short time before and after the death of her parents. Mireille's happiness grew as she realized that he hadn't been killed like the rest of her family.

"That is not possible…." Her eyes were wide. " He…he went missing…."

"That would be incorrect. I didn't disappear…I had to come into this world…To be your guide."

"R…really?"

"Yes…really…" he smiled.

"Oh Armand!" she exclaimed as her arms embraced him. "I missed you so much!"

"I know Mireille, I know…but I just hope you will grow to love me just as much as I love you…"

"I'm afraid that is never going to happen. My heart belongs to someone else…."

"How can you be so sure?" He dipped her once more, holding her down. His hand caressed her stomach and made its way to her chest until his hand caressed her face. "Maybe all you need is a bit of rekindling."

He leaned down and gave her a passionate kiss. He pulled her up and continued kissing her. Mireille remained frozen in shock, trying to process what was happening, when suddenly, all the lights were dimmed and everyone looked up to the staircase on the right that led to the stage. Standing on the top of the staircase was none other than her Erik.

**XXXXXX **

Erik glared down upon the vile guests attending the Masquerade. He hated all of them for defiling his holy sanctuary. His anger was worsened by the most atrocious sight he could have ever seen; he considered it worst than seeing Christine kiss that weakling of Raoul. He saw Mireille, his precious porcelain doll being caressed and kissed by Armand. The sight of that kiss felt like needles stabbing his heart. His anger rose to an unimaginable level and his wrath was going to be felt by those that have done him wrong.

Mireille pushed Armand away from her, looking at Erik with wide eyes. Shivers ran up and down her body, as Erik's imposing figure slowly made its way down the stairs. Each step that he took made everyone fear his presence.

"Why so silent, good messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good?" Erik mockingly asked everyone present.

Everyone held his or her breath as he started talking. Christine and Mireille being the only ones that were able to meet his gaze, Christine still felt fear towards him, while Mireille was completely unafraid.

"Have you missed me, good messieurs? I have written you an opera!" Erik exclaimed as he took out a large black leather envelope containing the music notes of his masterpiece. "Here I bring the finished score 'Don Juan Triumphant'!" He yelled out as he threw the folder down near the feet of the frightened Opera managers, causing some pages of music to get out of their shelter onto the cold floor.

Erik smirked and turned his head about to see who had attended the masquerade. He took out his sword and walked until he was merely four feet away from Carlotta and Piangi.

"Fondest greetings to you all! A few instructions just before rehearsal starts: Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal trick of strutting round the stage."

His sword moved about the feathers on the hat that Carlotta had on, causing her to have a horrified look on her face as she shut her eyes in fear.

Erik's eyes shifted towards Piangi, and the sharp tip of his sword pointed towards the tenor's large stomach.

"Our Don Juan must lose some weight - it's not healthy in a man of Piangi's age."

He walked down a few more steps pointing the sword to the managers.

"And my managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts."

He smiled as he put his sword back in its sheath.

"As for our star, Miss Christine Daae..."

He turned around and faced Christine, his adoration for her shined clearly in his eyes.

"No doubt she'll do her best - it's true her voice is good. She knows, though, should she wish to excel she has much still to learn…" He made his way down the last few stairs towards the wide-eyed Christine. "If pride will let her return to me Her teacher, her teacher..." His haunting voice faded off.

** XXXXXX**

Christine walked toward him, the Vicomte nowhere to be seen. Her breathing was slow and the spell that she had gone under before begun to take control once more. Erik stepped closer to her, trying to control his anger. He looked upon the figure of his Angel of Music in awe of her innocent beauty. He looked upon her breasts to find a small metal chain holding what seemed to be an engagement ring. The sight of the ring and the kiss between Mireille and Armand made him reach his breaking point. He quickly grabbed the chain and tore it from her delicate neck.

"Your chains are still mine! You belong to ME!" he angrily spit out at her.

Christine remained still, in a state of shock as Erik rushed back and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

**XXXXXX **

Mireille's eyes could not go away from him, her Erik. How she longed to rush up to him and slap him to his senses but she knew it was futile. He loved Christine and there was no changing that. Her mind grimaced about the horrid events she knew would unfold later on.

"_Both Erik and the Vicomte will duel each other at the graveyard soon…That will be the time for me to implement my plan and reveal myself to Erik…I just hope he will not loathe me for it."_

**XXXXXXX **

Armand looked back and forth between Mireille and the mysterious man that had appeared. From the way that his lovely companion looked upon that man, he deduced that he was looking upon his rival for the affections of Mireille. He clenched his fists as he saw the look of misery upon the assassin's gorgeous face as she saw the man walk towards the young prima donna.

"_Mireille…I will try my best to ensure your happiness…Even if it means sacrificing my own…but I swear…if that man continues to ignore you in this manner…I will fight to win you over."_

Armand's steel gray eyes shined with their determination. He would do whatever it took to make Mireille the happy once more.


	16. Divine Revelation: Révélation Divine

**Ch. 15 Divine Revelation: Révélation Divine**

"_The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order: the continuous thread of revelation." _–Eudora Welt

Mireille kept close vigilance on the Opera House; She even went to the point of hiring some boys that worked in the Opera Populaire to keep a close watch over Christine. Her frustration and anxiety grew each passing day that the boys reported nothing important back to her. Armand took note of her anxiety and decided to not inquire about what was worrying his beloved. The cold, wintry days passed on, and Mireille still didn't know when the events of the graveyard would unfold.

**XXXX**

Erik decided to lay low for a few weeks, not wishing to arouse more unwanted attention from everyone if he showed himself once more. One day, he decided to reflect upon his plans for Christine and make some other strategies to hopefully reunite himself with his friend. He walked down the damp and cold tunnels of the opera house towards the garden where he and Mireille first met. He covered himself with his cloak; his face concealed with a hood, as he stepped out into the cold and dreary Parisian afternoon. The garden was completely isolated at this time, since everyone who lived near it was out of town visiting their families in the countryside. He glared at the buildings as he thought about the family he never had. He came to loathe his mother, who always showed disgust and aberration towards him because of his horrific face. His footsteps made a trail in the soft snow covered path he took. He halted and closed his eyes, hearing singing in the distance. His feet continued to move slowly towards his destination, the singing becoming more and more clear. His eyes shot wide open in shock as he recognized the singing. It was long ago, when his angel of music had just arrived in the opera house. He distinctly remembered hearing the same singing while he saw Christine's sleeping form. That singing inspired him to become Christine's tutor.

"_That singing…Christine's voice is soft and sweet but the voice singing the song is dark and haunting…must like…his porcelain doll," _he thought.

He walked closer and closer, the figure that was singing becoming more and more visible through the wintry fog. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw who it was.

"Mireille…." He whispered.

**XXXX**

Mireille arrived at the garden at the usual time, her cloak gently blowing in the wind. Melancholy swept over her as she longed to see Erik once more. She felt the need to sing. If she held it in any longer it felt as if the need would consume her. Her eyes closed and she started singing the sad melody, which came naturally to her. Her sadness and anger transfused into the musical notes. Anyone who would have heard that haunting song would have remembered it for the rest of his or her days. She continued to be enraptured in the moment, pouring all her heart and soul into the song. Each note sounding like a melody the angels would sing. She finished on a high note, sighing after her song ended. It was then that she noticed someone watching her. Mireille turned around to find Erik staring back at her, amazement shining in his eyes.

"Erik…."she whispered, letting her voice trail off into silence.

** XXXX**

Mireille and Erik looked into each other's eyes, each unable to speak to one another. She stepped closer to Erik, her cheeks becoming a slight hint of scarlet.

"_I hope he didn't hear me sing."_She thought to herself.

"How long have you been standing there?" Mireille quietly asked.

"Long enough…my doll…" he answered.

"So…you heard me?"

"Yes…"

Both of them glanced away, as an awkward silence hung in the air. Mireille finally decided to break the unnerving silence.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice growing to its normal tone.

"I was just about to ask you the same question." He responded.

"But if you must know, I was just taking a stroll."

"I came here to think…to think about my past…and my future."

"How are things going with Armand?" Erik blurted out, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Things are going…smoothly." She hesitated for a few seconds.

" I decided to give him an opportunity, since…" she looked up into the somewhat darkened sky, " the man I love is in love with another."

Erik stepped closer to her, an unknown force attracting every fiber of his being towards her.

"That is a good thing…you will be happy." He solemnly added.

"No."

"No?"

"Not until I kill the bastard that killed my family." Her voice was full of anger.

He looked into her eyes, and for the first time saw them filled with a mixture of hate and sadness. He didn't know what to say or do to respond to her.

"How are things going with…. Christine?" she asked.

He didn't respond, sending the hint to Mireille that the events that would unfold in the graveyard were drawing near.

"Your singing…is phenomenal…such emotion, such passion… Christine has not been able to achieve your level of singing." He commented.

Mireille and him drew closer and closer to each other as their conversation continued, until only a mere four feet remained between them.

"Oh…. Thank you. It must be the lessons that my mother gave me. They must be paying off."

"Your mother must have been quite a Diva in her time."

"She was… Singing and playing my flute is the only way I can keep the presence of my parents near me…without them I feel like my loneliness will engulf me."

"I understand that feeling of loneliness…"

"So, Christine hasn't been able to sing like I do? Or are you just telling me this just to be kind?"

"It is the absolute truth." They both remained there for quite sometime, until the sky was completely engulfed in a deep black-blue blanket.

"I must get going Erik…Armand will start to be worried about me. _Au revoir bon ami_."

Mireille kissed Erik on the cheek, smiling then walking away, leaving Erik to his thoughts.

**XXXX**

Erik could only stand in his place as everything surrounding him blurred. He couldn't believe that Mireille had done what even his own mother could never do. His heart pounded violently against his chest, and his cheeks became hot, as they began to take a shade of red.

"_She wasn't afraid…its almost as if she never really noticed my horrid face. Mireille…she is the only person to whom I am perfectly willing to be myself. I do not think I could never do that with Christine…ever…"_

** XXXX**

A month passed with no answers, until early on one wintry morning. A boy ran as fast as he could towards the De La Guerre residence. His heart pounded against his chest roughly. His thin shirt barely protected him from the heat, but the warm blood rushing through his body shielded him from the frigid wind. He finally made it to the manor, and he spotted the cloaked woman that had hired him.

"I am glad to see you again." Mireille kindly said.

"Milady…just a few minutes ago Miss Daae left to the Paris Cemetery." The boy said in a quick tone.

"Thank you so much for the information young man." Mireille smiled as she gave him a hefty sum of money.

"This should help you get a cloak for the cold days."

"Thank you Milady." The boy smiled as he curtsied, before running back to the Opera House.

** XXXX**

Mireille smiled and rushed to the stables to get Azrael. Her cloak flew violently in the wind, revealing her assassin garb. Her boot-clad feet made crushing sounds as she was running trough the snow. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, as she knew this was going to be her only shot at gaining Erik's favor.

"_This is it…I'm going to give it my all to hopefully end this tragedy. I must make Erik listen…I must."_

Mireille arrived at the stables Azrael was prepared to go. She straddled the horse's back, and brushed her mane.

"Good girl Azrael…Now I need you to be as fast as the wind…" she whispered to the horse.

The horse huffed in approval. Mireille smiled and grabbed the reigns, whipping them as she gave the horse the signal to go. Azrael answered to her mistress and sped off, into the snow covered city.

**XXXX**

Armand awoke for his slumber. He yawned as he stood up from his large bed and walked towards the window. He spotted Mireille talking to the same boy to whom she had spoken to every day for the last month or so.

"_What is the boy telling her? And why is she so fascinated by that information?"_

Armand had asked himself that set of questions during that time, but he did not wish to ask Mireille about it, since it would seem a bit intrusive of him. His steel gray eyes looked on as the boy ran away and Mireille ran in the opposite directions towards the stables.

"_Just where in the world are you going my love?"_He mused to himself as he brushed a few locks of his dark hair back.

**XXXX**

Mireille and her horse sped off towards the cemetery, her heart pounding violently against her chest as she felt her emotions pluck at her heart and mind. She pushed Azrael to go on faster, hoping to be on time. She made her way to the road leading to the Parisian cemetery; as she continued her way towards them, she slowed her horse down when she saw the carriage carrying a woman, who she assumed was Christine. She steered Azrael off the road and made her way deep into the once lush forest, hoping the trees would provide a somewhat decent cover while she followed them.

**XXXX**

Erik drove the carriage in which his beloved Christine was riding. He had come up with his great plan to win her back from that pretty-boy, Raoul. His mind remained focused on its task, taking meticulous measures in order to conceal his true identity.

"_Soon you will be mine once more…then we can live happily together in my temple to music…"_ he thought to himself as he finally arrived to the graveyard.

**XXXX**

Christine was snapped back to reality as the carriage halted in front of the cemetery. She slowly made her way down, clutching the hem of her long black dress. She gulped as she took the final step off the carriage.

"Thank you, monsieur," she quietly said as the carriage driver nodded his head.

She began her somewhat long trek towards the mausoleum that was the home to her father's resting place. As she passed the tombstones and heavenly sculptures that decorated the resting place of the dead she begun to sing to herself.

" _Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing…_

_Her Father promised her that he would send her the Angel of Music._

_Her father promised her..._

_Her father promised her._

_You were once my one companion._

_You were all that mattered..._

_You were once a friend and father -_

_Then my world was shattered..._

_Wishing you were somehow here again..._

_Wishing you were somehow near..._

_Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed,_

_Somehow you would be here..._

_Wishing I could hear your voice again... _

_Knowing that I never would... _

_Dreaming of you won't help me to do, _

_All that you dreamed I could!_

_Passing bells and sculpted angels, _

_Cold and monumental. _

_Seem, for you, the wrong companions, _

_You were warm and gentle._

_Too many years fighting back tears, _

_Why can't the past just die!_

_Wishing you were somehow here again, _

_Knowing we must say goodbye! _

_Try to forgive, teach me to live! _

_Give me the strength to try!_

_No more memories, no more silent tears! _

_No more gazing across the wasted years!"_

Christine made her way towards the stairs, which lead to the entrance to her father's resting place.

"_Help me say goodbye… _

_Help me say goodbye!"_

**XXXX**

Erik went away from his Christine to take the carriage deep into the heart of the barren forest. He halted the horse and jumped down, his cape swooshing in the air, like a dark halo hovering around him. His feet made contact with the snow-covered ground, making a slight crunching sound. He then sprinted to the location of the Daae mausoleum. He made his way to the back of the mausoleum, a large foreboding tree growing just a few inches away from the chiseled block. His gloved hands gripped some thick bark that protruded from the tree and utilized them to climb his way to the rooftop of the mausoleum, giving him full advantage to use his ventriloquist abilities. The sheath of his sword scratched the side of the mausoleum, so he climbed more slowly, making sure his sheath made no noise.

He laid down on his stomach, as a precaution so his lovely Christine would not be frightened away. His body shook with anticipation, as he looked down. It wasn't long before he heard his Angel's sweet and soft melody.

"_Help me say goodbye… _

_Help me say goodbye!"_

He smiled then cleared his throat, beginning his haunting song that was bound to bind her to him once more.

"_Wandering child, _

_So lost, so helpless _

_Yearning for my guidance"_

**XXXX**

Mireille rushed into the forest, stopping in a secluded area covered in leafless trees. She jumped off the horse and tied it to a large tree.

"I'll be back soon…don't worry." she whispered to the horse, before running as fast as she could towards the graveyard.

Her heart beat violently against her chest as she ran. She quickly took out her mask and put it on, not quite ready to reveal her identity to the three main marionettes of the tale. Her eyes searched for the graveyard, but she quickly located it by the sound of clashing swords.

**XXXX**

Erik was just at the brink of enchanting his beloved Christine once again, when Raoul showed up to ruin his plans. His rage boiled over its limit and he jumped off the roof of the mausoleum, unsheathing his sword against his foe. Raoul quickly countered the attack that he made by unsheathing his sword as well. It was then that the struggle between them would unfold in a one on one battle for a woman.

**XXXX**

Mireille arrived just in the nick of time; Raoul had knocked Erik to the ground, kicking his sword away from him. Seeing the sight of a helpless Erik pushed her to the edge. She jumped and made her way behind Christine, pulling her towards her, and aiming a dagger at her neck, just as Raoul was about to stab Erik.

"Hey…. handsome, look behind you" Mireille announced loudly in her most sternest voice.

Raoul looked back to find his beloved in the clutches of an unknown assailant.

"Let Christine go! She has done you no wrong!" Raoul yelled.

"Actually…she has…your love for her nearly drove you to kill him, and I simply cannot allow that." She stated.

"Raoul…please…stop." Christine sobbed, her breathing becoming ragged as Mireille tightened her grip around her neck and pointed the dagger closer to the delicate flesh.

**XXXX**

Erik could only look on in shock as the scene unfolded. His body remained frozen in its spot, as his eyes darted back and forth between Noir's deadly grasp on Christine and Raoul.

"_Noir…she rescued me…but she's putting in danger the life of Christine…I don't know what to do…I guess this is what Noir meant by choosing between Christine and Mireille."_

**XXXX**

Noir held on to Christine for a few seconds; her face showing an arrogant smirk. Then, without warning, she roughly threw Christine onto the snow-covered ground.

"HERE! Have her…" she glared at Raoul. "She's useless to me."

Raoul rushed to Christine's side, helping her up. They both quickly rushed to Raoul's white stallion.

"May I ask, who exactly it is that you go by?" Raoul asked, as he helped Christine up to his horse.

"I go by the name…Noir."

Raoul's eyes widened, showing fear and shock. He quickly got upon his horse and galloped away with Christine, as quickly as his horse could possibly go.

Noir smirked and turned to face Erik, a kind smile on her face.

**XXXX**

Erik remained still; it wasn't until he saw Christine being whisked away by Raoul that he snapped out of his astonishment, anger coursing through his veins.

"Now…let there be war upon you both!" He spit out enraged, as he glared at the fading figure of both Christine and Raoul.

He then turned around, his eyes gleaming with hate. Noir simply smiled and walked towards him.

"I'm glad you aren't harmed…Monsieur Phantom." Noir's haunting voice flirtatiously remarked. "I did not wish for you to be killed by someone of…" she laughs, "the Vicomte's caliber."

"I did not need your help, mademoiselle Noir…" Erik yelled out at her, "Now…" his voice grew low and menacing, "If you will excuse me, I have to return to my opera house."

**XXXX**

Mireille saw Erik turn away from her and start to walk away. She was nervous about telling him the truth; her body trembled from fear of how he might react.

"It is now or never." she told herself. 

Noir ripped off the mask, holding it in her clenched hand.

"Turn around…. Erik." Her eyes focused on their target, as she held her breath in wait of his reaction.

**XXXX**

"Turn around…Erik." Noir's stern voice commanded him.

He stopped, debating whether or not to turn around. What caught his attention was her calling him by his true name.

"H…How can that be?! How could she possibly know my name…the only people that know my name are Madame Giry and…Mireille…Could it possibly be her?"

His eyes widened at the realization. He turned around, to find that his conclusion had been correct after all.

**XXXX**

Mireille stood still, as a wide-eyed Erik looked at her, shock and clarity shown in his eyes.

"_Now everything makes sense…her strange late evening outings, the wounds and bruises upon her flesh…and possibly her stay with Armand." _Erik thought.

"H…How? Why have you…" Erik slowly started to ask.

"Why I have become an assassin you ask? Simple…" she smiled weakly, "Because that is the only way to have the tools that will enable me to destroy the one…the one that took everything from me." Her eyes welled up with tears, but she brushed them off with her gloved hand, not wishing to shed any tears.

All Erik could do was nod and get closer to the dark angel before him; the sad angel of darkness that is in every way, his equal.

"My doll…I do not care if you're an assassin…everyone has to do what is necessary in order to achieve his or her goals. I know that from experience…" he stated.

"So…you do not think that I am…a criminal?"

"No."

Mireille looked into his eyes and got closer, letting the personalities of the old Mireille Erik knew and Noir fuse together into her true form. Her hips swayed as she made her way towards him, until mere inches separated them.

"I will make sure no one harms you my Erik…" she smirked. "Even if it means killing your precious Christine." She whispered the last part in his ear.

Erik's eyes widened, his body shaking from a sudden outburst of anger.

"YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HER!!" he yelled out at Mireille, pushing her to the ground.

Mireille tumbled back, but did a flip that enabled her to keep on her feet. She instinctively took out her guns and pointed them at Erik, taking a defensive stance. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing. Her hands put the guns back in their respective places, her gaze never leaving Erik's.

"This is why she's my target…She has made you loose your reason. You already know that I come from the future…. and I know for a fact that you will NEVER be with Christine. EVER!"

Erik could only look at her, his anger finally dissipating. A deep part within him heard her words and knew that she was correct, but for the most part, he refused to believe it.

"I cannot believe you Mireille…I simply cannot." He solemnly said.

"I once told you that I went with Armand in order to forget the man that I love.."

"Yes…I remember that." He stated, a bit bewildered by her random remark.

"That man…. the man with whom I fell in love….is …you.." she whispered the last word.

**XXXX**

Erik did not answer her. He simply turned around and left, he simply did not know how to react to her confession. His cape swooshed in the breeze as he walked away from Mireille. He did not dare look behind him to see her reaction, for he knew all too well that he had just broken her heart.

**XXXX**

Mireille fell upon her knees, her heart breaking like beautiful crystals shattering on cold marble. Her eyes shed unwanted tears, as Erik walked away from her. Her cape fluttered in the wind, nearly appearing like darkened wings. Her silent cries echoed in her mind, as the tears became cold from the icy wind blowing.


End file.
